Corrupted by Vengeance
by AlexJ69
Summary: After being defeated twice, Sephiroth finally understands what he really wants, however the only way to get it is to go back to a time before he made his mistakes. Time travel fic. Rated for yaoi, and violence later. Sephiroth/Genesis
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own_

_Rating: NC-17_

_Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Nothing this chapter_

**&%$**

Shimmering, resplendent in glory, the sparkling green stream of life gently permeated all facets of the planet. The source of creation, shrouded in mystery, skirting the fringes of fantasy, the Lifestream was the only place where one could ever obtain the abstract state known a Peace. The beings who inhabited the breathing blue-green rock proclaimed desire of the hypothetical idea, but their dreams betrayed them. They sought change, living one moment to the next, hoping each will be different, wanting new memories, clinging to visions of a future that will be altered from the spot they are rooted in.

Change is violent, the destruction of the past to make way for the present, and cutting a subtle but bloody path into an unknowable tomorrow. The theory of tranquility, harmony, and peace, was just that: a theory. No living soul really wanted to exist in those states of being, only attracted to the notions because there was a void that needed filled. People looked for action and adventure, fraught with danger and peril. They wanted to discover new wonders that would lead them to their next quest. Even those who never actively peruse fate listen with rapt fascination to the stories about those who had.

The swirling green energy of the Lifestream glittered around the silver-haired being as he pondered these philosophies. What would it mean if the planet ever achieved peace? It would mean stagnation. No wars, no disagreements, no differences of opinions, no growth...no individuality. The thought was unsettling.

Obtaining perfect peace meant sacrificing ones self to the meaning, and in the process one loses their identity. He listened carefully to the melody of those who had surrendered to tranquility, those who were no longer individuals but The Collective. He knew what they knew, and how they only existed in a state of unknowingness, allowed intellect only when the spirit of the planet considered it a worthy endeavor. Perfect peace meant perfect ignorance and Sephiroth rejected the idea utterly.

After Sephiroth's initial renunciation of The Collective, he had been forever barred to become one with them, not that he was upset. He did not want to be part of that static group who's existence depended upon the memories of those still alive. His very sense of self preservation refused to allow him to become some pathetic spirit guide who only became aware when a mortal clung to the past memories of him; he was too powerful for that.

So he wandered.

He traversed the Lifestream, at first only seeking to grow in power and knowledge. At certain intervals, when he had grown bored with what he had learned, he breached the barrier between life and death. The two times he had crossed, he had been unclear as to what he really wanted. In a times past, when he was bitter and unsure, he believed he wanted to sail through the cosmos and find or build Utopia. Both times he attempted his plan he had been defeated and sent back to wandering.

It was only after his second defeat that the realization dawned on him that he hadn't clearly defined his goal. What was it he was actually striving for? The Promised Land? He found the Promised Land, that place of peace that he called The Collective, so it couldn't be that. What was it that made him happy?

When it hit him, the simplicity of it, he could have kicked himself, and would have if he still had a corporeal body. A old friend of his used to tell him he always missed the simple things, he always made things too complex.

As he peered from the Lifestream down on Gaia, he knew what made him happy. Now all that was left to do was claim his godhood and descend upon the mortal realm once again; this time a decisive plan in mind.

Moving quickly, before Gaia's manifested will, Minerva, could react, Sephiroth called the remaining souls of the Geostigma victims to him and used what was left of their essence along with his own power to rip through the time-space continuum.

The portal he created was dark light, oozing and seething malice, reeking of blood, steal and fire, offsetting the vibrant green magic that surrounded it. With his own made destiny coiled around him, the warlord stepped through the portal, headed for a time when he could change everything in his favor. When he arrived, he took the next logical step; he searched out the perfect body that could house his soul: his own.

**&%$ **

Half sitting, half laying on his bed, Sephiroth had his back resting against his headboard, legs stretched out with one ankle crossed over the other. His tall but slim figure only took up a small portion of the queen-sized bed, the rest of the mattress was occupied by an auburn-haired teen who had somehow positioned himself diagonally with his booted feet too close to Sephiroth's face, and his head laying in the silver-haired boy's lap.

Nobody else on Gaia, including Sephiroth's only other friend Angeal, dared touch the warrior without his express permission, let alone use him as a pillow. But the redhead wasn't just anybody; he was Genesis Rhapsodos and there would be hell to pay if Sephiroth tried to move him. Not in the sense that Genesis could kick his ass, but if the teen pushed his friend away, Genesis would probably sit outside his room all night, singing at the top of his lungs, keeping him awake. Also, Sephiroth had to admit, he enjoyed physical contact with the other.

After an hour of them lounging in silence, Sephiroth reading a book and Genesis doing a crossword puzzle, the silver SOLDIER laid aside his reading material – _The History of Biological Warfare_ – and watched as the other boy entertained himself with his word-search. Genesis was beautiful, Sephiroth observed unnoticed while his friend was occupied. The way his red hair, rust inlaid with copper, framed his face made Sephiroth want to run his finger's through it, just to see if it was as silky as it looked. Features, soft and delicate, high cheek bones and forehead, small nose, slightly arched brows, rounded chin, almost symmetrical to the point of perfection, had Sephiroth's heart beating faster than normal every time he looked at them. Blue eye that could captivate for hours, were brighter than any he'd ever seen. And lips, those pink lips, wet from having just been licked, were the lips men and women alike dreamed of kissing.

Sephiroth knew he shouldn't be thinking of other boys as beautiful or in Genesis' case, achingly desirable. Professor Hojo had once explained sex to him – when he had been caught exploring himself and discovering how enjoyable touching himself was – and that he should find a woman to have sex with. Hojo then went into the details of sex. However, even though embarrassed, and still painfully in need, the suggestion held no appeal for him. He wouldn't lie, some women were very pretty; he could see himself kissing one, maybe even fondling her, but when he tried to imagine himself having sex with a girl, he lost interest completely. Yet, when he looked at other men, he found he liked them better: their strength, the shapes of their bodies, how rigid they carried themselves. He could envision himself naked with another man, holding him, touching him intimately, the both of them reaching completion together.

He never told Hojo of his lusts, a part of him truly feared what the Professor would say or do, and he never acted on his instincts, choosing masturbation instead. Then came Genesis, and whenever the redhead took the liberties of touching him, which was often, always under the auspice of horseplay, Sephiroth felt his resolve slipping. Self-gratification was suddenly not as fulfilling and the more he was around the auburn one, the more powerful the need became. He knew the feeling was mutual, Genesis' eyes would brighten when the two were in close proximity, and Sephiroth could almost caress the subtle heat rolling off Genesis' body.

"Genesis," his voice cut through the quiet, "does Angeal allow you to lay on him during your downtime?"

"Why would he?" Genesis responded without looking up from his puzzle book.

"I am merely curious as to why you find it acceptable to use me as a head-rest."

The redhead circled a word, focus still not on Sephiroth, "because I feel special being the only person you let touch you...other than the scientists, of course."

"...I see. And would you move if I told you I had to relieve myself?"

"Depends," Genesis' eyes scanned the page, "do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"No...I was only asking."

The red SOLDIER turned his face toward his friend, crooked smile upturning the corners of his lips, he chuckled, "you are so weird."

Had anyone else called him weird, Sephiroth would have taken grave offense, since it was Genesis however, Sephiroth smirked. The teen seemed to be the exception to all of Sephiroth's rules. Also this was his way of flirting.

"I find it strange that you call me weird, but it is you who is using the most dangerous person in the world as a pillow."

Amusement had Genesis' body trembling, laughter becoming a crystalline bell that filled the empty places where silence was lurking. "You are NOT the most dangerous person in the world. I think your mad scientist fills your head with nonsense."

In a single, fluid motion, without Genesis having a chance to defend himself, Sephiroth had the boy beneath him, lower half between his legs, and Gen's arms pinned above his head.

"Really?" the silver SOLDIER's emerald eyes had darkened, his face now only inches from his captive's. His long hair was cascading around them, threatening to hide them in a curtain of silk.

Genesis' laughter had trailed off, leaving a short gasp in its wake. He shivered and peered up into Sephiroth's face expectantly. Sephiroth could feel, even through his clothes, that Genesis' temperature had sky rocketed and his skin was entirely flushed with anxiety and want. He understood what the redhead was feeling because he felt it as well. His stomach did a somersault, his heart pounding so hard it was ringing in his ears. He wanted to claim, to dominate, those wet, pink lips. The lips that recited poetry, and read aloud. The lips that curled up on only one side.

Sephiroth lowered his mouth until it was touching those lips, but he did not kiss. He wasn't ready for that, he wouldn't be able to stop if he did. He worked his jaw, forcing Genesis' mouth to move with his.

"Don't ever forget who I am, Genesis Rhapsodos,"he loved saying Genesis' name, loved the syllables dancing on his tongue. His voice became low and deadly, "and how dangerous I really am."

Sephiroth's copper beauty slid his eyes closed, and nodded, his lips now grazing the set above.

Not daring to move, maintaining a constant amount of pressure, fearful of devouring the boy under him, the silver SOLDIER held the not-kiss, allowing the tingle of Genesis' mouth to flood his senses.

A knock on the door separated them instantly, as if they'd never been in such a compromising position in the first place. Sephiroth was in his original position, back against the headboard and Genesis was sitting cross-legged on the bed, word-search in hand.

Mentally cursing the intrusion, and wishing he could will his hardness away, Sephiroth intoned, "It's open." He hoped his heavy breathing wouldn't be detected. He also hoped his hair wasn't too out of place.

It came as no surprise to see Angeal poke his head around the door, and had Sephiroth not been yearning to continue touching Genesis, he would have been genuinely thrilled to see his friend back from his mission.

Genesis shot Sephiroth a glare that said, '_are you kidding? the door was unlocked?_' before raising from the bed and throwing his arms around Angeal's neck. Angeal returned the embrace of his childhood friend, holding his tight, chin stubble scratchy against the redhead's cheek.

"It's good to see you too Gen," The dark-haired SOLDIER finally pried Genesis off him, laughter tainting his speech.

"Sorry, Geal, I miss you when you're gone, and you know I worry easily."

Broad shoulders shook with mirth, "you have no faith in me, Genesis Rhapsodos." People used both first and last name when they wanted emphasis on their words, as if Rhapsodos was an exclamation point.

"I do too...just not when you could get killed."

Sephiroth had also moved from the bed when Angeal had entered, but he stayed back, giving the other two room for their reunion. He was feeling a pang of jealously clinch his chest, but the emotion didn't show on his pale, chiseled face. He wondered what it would be like to have Genesis welcome him home from a mission with such enthusiasm. In his mind's eye he saw the red SOLDIER entwining his slender, but defined arms around his neck, and instead of just hugging Sephiroth, Genesis would kiss him, that crooked smile etched on his mouth.

"Welcome back, Angeal," the silver SOLDIER stepped forward and held out his hand when Genesis moved away.

"Sephiroth," the third class clasped his superior's hand and shook firmly.

Angeal's formality drew a great deal of respect from Sephiroth, and though he knew he would never be as close to him as Genesis was, he still counted him as a friend and confidant.

"How was your mission?" Sephiroth took the seat at his desk, leaving the other two the bed to sit on. Though he was a rank higher than his friends, his ugly, army-green room was the same size, consisting of his bed, a desk, a small closet, and a tiny bathroom, the only difference: he didn't have to share.

Angeal, so much bigger and more masculine than his counterpart, practically fell back on Sephiroth's bed, making himself comfortable, while Genesis sat at the foot, legs crossed, looking pretty and demure, almost dainty, especially in comparison.

"One word," the rougher looking boy growled, untying a ribbon from around his wrist, "Malboro."

There was a wince from Sephiroth but Genesis' eyes grew wide, curiosity shining across his face. "Really? Tell us about it."

Pity was the emotion Sephiroth would never admit to feeling for the red SODIER, though it stung him sharply, mostly at times like these. Genesis was begging to hear about Angeal's mission, living it vicariously though the brawnier teen. Due to the redhead's small size and stature, the higher-ups hadn't given him his own mission yet, regardless of the fact he passed the SOLDIER entrance exam with ease and his speed and use of materia were superb. So Genesis was left to experience the excitement and glory through tales told by his friends. The silver second ached that for the teen, yet another part of him, the better part, was angry. He wanted the redhead's ability to be tested, he longed for Genesis to be on par with him. If the auburn fighters lips were ever stained with sweat and blood, the flavors of battle, Sephiroth knew he would become addicted. One day soon, that would happen.

"Well," Angeal began, sitting up, and unlacing his boots, "technically it was a test. Professor Hollander taped a bunch of electrodes to my chest and back before I was sent on the mission. I was then dropped off near a dense patch of forest a few miles outside Junon." When the dark-haired teen had his boots off, he laid back down, wariness apparent from the way his limbs were spreed. "I spent two days in the woods, hunting the Malboro. And yes, Genesis, I did run into a few random encounters while looking."

Opting for a position switch so he could better watch Angeal's face when he spoke, Genesis put his back to Sephiroth, sitting Indian style, with one of the silver teen's pillows crunched to his chest. "Details, Geal...details," the redhead encouraged.

"Alright Genesis, relax. The random encounters were Capparwires, and except for the few times they zapped me with electricity, they were almost harmless and easy enough to dispatch."

"Did you use Buster?"

"Didn't need to. My fists worked just fine. A couple of well placed hits and they dissolved into the Lifestream.

It was on the second day that I finally tracked down the Malboro..."

"Did you use Buster _then_?" Genesis was becoming impatient, wanting Angeal to get to, what he deemed, 'the good parts'.

"Yes, Gen, I used Buster. I had to; the beast used it's ice attack on me. I needed to end the fight quickly..."

"You did not have a wall or M. barrier equipped?" Sephiroth asked reproachfully.

The dark-haired warrior sat up and gazed at his superior. "Wouldn't have done any good. His ice attack is a natural ability and not magic, and even if it wasn't, I find using materia a dishonorable way of defeating my enemies. I'd rather depend on my own prowess."

Sephiroth snorted, "there is nothing honorable about being dead, SOLDIER third class Angeal."

"The ribbon was enough," Angeal retorted.

"Anyway," Genesis cut in, not wanting his friends to argue over battle morals. "what happened?"

Readjusting his head so his shocking, Mako-infused, blue eyes bore into Genesis, Angeal continued, "I had trapped the creature between myself and a ravine. I did use my fists as the opening attacks, but its ice blast kept knocking me back, and it hurt like hell. That's when I drew Buster. I dodged a few more spells, including Bio, and thank the goddess for the ribbon. I waited for it to use its Bad Breath, and holding my breath to combat the smell, I jumped. After a few swings, mostly chopping off eye-stalks, I finally hit it at the proper angle, cutting the monster in half." He sat up on his elbows and scrunched his nose, eyes shifting between his two friends, "It was very strange seeing two...piles, I guess you would call them, of eye-stalks, tentacles and teeth."

Genesis smiled at his friend, "That sounded awesome, Geal." Then he sighed wistfully, "I can't wait to go on a real mission."

Torn between anger and pity, Sephiroth abstained from commenting on Genesis' words. Keeping in conversation with Angeal, he asked, "and your tests, how did they come back."

Angeal shrugged, "same as always, high above the average marks in all categories."

Sephiroth nodded, he had expected no less.

Plastering a fake smile that the silver SOLDIER could see right through, Genesis stood. "I'm happy for you Geal. You'll have your next rank in no time." He walked to the door. "I just remembered some things I have to do. I'll see you guys later." Without waiting for so much as a 'bye' from either of his friends, the auburn third left the room.

Forcing himself not to go after the redhead, Sephiroth continued to talk to Angeal for the next hour.

**&%$**

Would the flow of tears just not cease? Goddess how he hated crying; he felt small and insignificant. Genesis was angry, bitter, jealous and...it just wasn't fair. He worked just as hard as Sephiroth and Angeal, yet there were never missions given to him. He hadn't even been given 'slum patrol' and even regular army cadets got that. He was a fricken SOLDIER for Gaia's sake, he should be out being a hero, not stuck in the tower as if he were a fragile, Wutaian doll that would break easily. It didn't make sense to him, he was strong and fast and could take on any mission thrown at him. Ifrit's Hell, he probably could have taken Angeal's Malboro in record time.

One thing had become clear, as he checked his PHS every day for missions, he was being held back. Someone didn't want him to gain in rank. He had thought perhaps it was Sephiroth, but ruled out that suspicion when during their training session, he had demanded his all and became agitated when Genesis held back. Skill wise, the two were on par, and from the pitying looks Sephiroth cast (only when he thought Genesis wasn't looking) when the redhead announced he still had no missions, it was easy to tell Seph wanted him on the same level. Genesis also knew it wasn't Angeal. Though his friend would sometimes cluck like a mother chocobo, the dark-haired teen would never stop Genesis from reaching his dream. So the who and why was still a mystery.

Curling into a tight ball on the top bunk of his and Angeal's bunk-bed, the redhead let the waterworks stream down his cheeks, staining his face. He prayed his childhood friend wouldn't walk in and see him crying like a little girl. It wasn't so much Angeal's opinion that concerned him, but what if Sephiroth was with him? The silver second was the last person Genesis wanted to see him cry. Sephiroth was the initial reason he had joined SOLDIER, and if he saw him in this state, he would think of Genesis as nothing more than a child; Genesis couldn't handle that, not after what had happened right before Angeal had shown up.

The tears slowed as his thought back to that moment and his face grew warm. Sephiroth had kissed him...kinda. He broke into a smile as his heart began to stammer. Their lips had touched and moved as one, and the silver-haired teen had made him weak, powerless and breathless in a way that Genesis hadn't minded. He had been crushing on Sephiroth before they had ever met, but until today, could only express it in a flirting manor that could be passed off as teasing.

When Sephiroth had pinned Genesis beneath him, somehow fitting his hips easily and effortlessly between his legs, the red SOLDIER had gotten light-headed and forgot to breathe. He had no idea, until that moment, Sephiroth returned his feelings. No resistance had been forthcoming when Sephiroth's mouth descended upon his, and the words, meant to be menacing, shot straight to his groin. He had shivered and hardened. Neither had tried to actually kiss the other, the moment was too intense to be ruined like that, however, Genesis had no doubt that if Angeal hadn't knocked when he did, something more would have happened. He had been frustrated and relieved at the same time. As he laid there reflecting on the moment, he couldn't wait to see his silver-haired friend again. Later, after curfew, he would go to him.

The emotional ride of the day's events combined with already insane, out of whack, teenage hormones, overwhelmed the redhead, and it wasn't long after his crying spell that he found his only true solace to be in slumber.

**&%$**

The visit with Angeal, after Genesis had left, had been pleasant, even if Sephiroth was somewhat distracted. The taste of the redhead, apples and cinnamon, lingered on his lips, and each time it was his turn to speak, the sweet taste sizzled on his tongue. He didn't necessarily want the brawny third to leave, but he would have preferred having Genesis' body under his again.

The conversation with Angeal had been enjoyable, and since it was apparent Genesis wasn't returning, it served to pass the time until he had to go to his Tactics and Strategy class. He was an aid and expected to show up on time.

From there, the rest of his day went by as usual, nothing to break the monotony. Today, that wasn't such a bad thing; his mind had been given free reign to daydream. Genesis! Every fantasy he had involved the redhead. He pictured him back on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck, and this time they were actually kissing. He imagined their positions changing and Genesis was straddling him, fingers deftly exploring his bare chest, lighting his skin aflame. By the end of the day, the auburn SOLDIER had been claimed a hundred different ways in a hundred different environments – mostly on the battlefield, after a bloody but victorious fight.

He didn't need to question why he kept picturing Genesis sweaty and bloody and glowing with pride. He knew. Sephiroth was born a warrior, trained from his earliest memories to love the battle, and he wanted Genesis at his side, sharing a victory, making love on crimson stained grass, the smell of copper and steel surrounding them.

Storm cloud had gathered high overhead when Sephiroth finally managed to make his way to Hojo's dungeon. As usual, the labs were cold, sterile and too bright for his liking. However, this evening, he had the images of Genesis to accompany him, so this visit was a little more bearable.

While waiting for the professor and ignoring the objects in the room he'd seen a million times before, Sephiroth pushed away the sexual thoughts of the redhead, and started to analyze why he had allowed Genesis to invade his mind as he did.

Lightening couldn't have stuck quicker or petrified him more. He had read about what he was feeling in the cheap, paperback romance novels that no one knew he owned. Setting on a hard examination table, waiting to be injected with Mako, insight that he fiercely wanted to deny was granted, yet it was the only logical explanation. The emotion he had never experienced before had a name: Love. He was terrified. Yet everything suddenly clicked into place. It now made sense why he wanted to spend all his free time around Genesis, felt light-headed when he was near, did everything in his power to make the redhead grace him with that crooked smile. Something unnameable soared in his chest, and he was warring with himself to either hold tight to it, or push it away as if it didn't exist.

The inner struggle wasn't seen on his features, his mask of indifference firmly in place, or if it did, Hojo didn't comment on it.

"Here," the scientist cracked after the Mako injection, puncturing Sephiroth's arm with another needle. "Just a mild sedative, to help you sleep through the storm."

The silver SOLDIER jumped off the table, but didn't argue. Not only did he not want to talk to the professor, but storms made him anxious, and if Hojo was willing to help him sleep, he wouldn't complain.

**&%$**

Alone again in his room, the second class SOLDIER sat on his window seal, watching the sky, waiting for the rain to come. The cloud overhead was ominous, darker than the night sky, ruthlessly dicing through the haze caused by the Mako reactors. There was lighting, pinkish-white, and there was thunder so harsh it caused the Shin-Ra tower to rattle, but the rain refused to fall.

To the core of his being, Sephiroth knew the storm was connected to him in someway, but because of the sedative, he couldn't find it within himself to care.

"Sephiroth," the voice was a purr in his ear.

Having no idea how someone had gotten into his room and this close to him undetected, the teen spun around, ready to fight.

However, in the next second, after he processed who he was looking at, he backpedaled. His back hit the window, shattering glass, sending glistening, deadly shards fifty-two stories to the ground.

"We have a lot of work to do," the older, transparent version of himself smiled wickedly and touched a hand to his cheek.

Sephiroth was emerged in velvet darkness.


	2. Chapter 2: Dreams of the Dragon

_Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix_

_Rating: NC-17_

_Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warning: mild language, implied masturbation, and needless to say, boy on boy love_

_A/N1: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. The comments always mean a lot to me. You guys are so awesome. Also, thanks to everyone who favored this story and/or put it on alert. _

_A special 'Thank You' to my wonderful beta Nephilim Rising. Also it was her story "Pride of a General" was the inspiration for child Seph in this chapter. _

**&%$ CBV$%&**

When gods clash, the earth trembles. Gaia shuddered a crippling breath, and the sky was split asunder! Twin clouds, one on each side of the great rift created by The Sundering, thundered high above, heavy, pregnant with the blood of the innocent. The multiheaded dragon, scales burning liquid flame, opened it maw and screamed; the sound scorched with fire and ice, and devoured all in its path. Slivers of midnight, velvet, deadly, black, rained down, gutting the fleshy sacks of the vein-lined clouds, spilling the contents, soaking the ground in blue-black ichor.

The planet whimpered and tried to heal her wounds, but the onslaught of destruction was coming to fast. Her life-force was being consumed. She assembled her champions, warriors of ages past, and sent them to protect her most precious commodity: human life. But the beast was to strong, for it had been sent forth to conquer and the champions fell, scorched. Nations crumbled in its many jaws, the hearts of heroes were punctured by midnight, and the souls of the innocent were drowned in blood.

The nightmare had returned.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Sephiroth opened his eyes, dispelling his fantasy. There was much to do before the dragon, who's name was War, would be unleashed on such a wide scale. And even then the beast wouldn't bring the world to ruin. Sephiroth wasn't here for total destruction; that would render him useless. He had returned to subjugate, not annihilate. The defeat of mankind, over and over again, (he would lead them to war, decimate their numbers, then help rebuild their strength, only to tear them apart again) was to be the price paid for what they, as a whole, either through willfulness or ignorance, had done to Mother and himself.

He now knew what Mother was, and the true origins of his conception. He knew he was not human, though it was a human who birthed him. Mother's cells, taking precedence over human cells, transformed him into something wholly different, almost unique; still, there were only two other beings like him in the entire universe.

The fault for what he was lay at the feet of humanity. It was them who had taken Mother apart, stole pieces of her to create him and his brothers – to create the entire SOLDIER department, then demanded bloodshed in return. It was a human woman who had injected an innocent fetus, one who would have been born normal, and possibly even loved, with the cells of an alien. It was a mortal that sanctioned and funded his upbringing and it was a human that taught him to kill and to make war.

Through it all he had tried to be human, longed for normality. There was a time when he had been herald as a hero, crowed a champion, beloved by many, feared by all, and he felt somewhat like he belonged among them. Yet, he couldn't help remaining distant from mankind, knowing he was different, being told he was special, better.

And then the one time he reacted as any human would if they found out they wasn't really an orphan, as they had been raised to believe, and their Mother had been dissected and used as an experiment, he was called insane.

He had lashed out in anger, wanting to hurt everyone in his path, to make them suffer for the lies he'd been told. They had all used him, worshiping him from afar when his hands were soiled with blood for their whims, yet turning their backs on him when he was in pain.

While in the Lifestream, Sephiroth had heard thoughts about him, knew how humanity saw him. They all thought him cold and emotionless, but they were wrong. He felt as deeply as anyone else; the way he expressed it was merely different. He loved. True, there were only three beings on all of Gaia he could ever claim having emotions for, but the feeling was still there. Genesis, the one he loved the most, had abandoned him; Angeal, the friend that tried to keep him human, hadn't been strong enough to continue searching for a cure for his disease; and Mother, the one who gave him his destiny.

The thought's he'd heard the loudest from the Lifestream was that of Cloud Strife. The blond pitied him, blamed Jenova for taking control of Sephiroth's mind. He believed Mother maddened her son, and used him to burn Nibelheim. That had never been the case. Mother's will wasn't strong enough to dominate the Shinra general. Nibelheim had happened because Sephiroth had been acting on the purely human emotion of rage. It was a crime of passion.

Fearing he had forgotten the justifications for joining with his past, less experienced self, the silver warlord smirked when the reasons were recalled. Yes, humanity would pay, but it would take years for that to come to pass. He first needed to subtly build up his power-base. In the meantime he had other things to be concerned about, like adjusting to the body he was in.

Becoming manifest, when he had been weightless for so long, was a strange sensation. He felt heavy and cumbersome. Taking step by slow, shaky step, Sephiroth moved away from the broken window, towards his bed; his motions awkward, each action forward causing him to stumble.

Stopping to regain his composure, hoping to maintain some semblance of grace, he waited until he settled into his new/old self. Looking at his surrounding to fill the time, a flood of memories emerged. He knew this room, every square inch of it. It was home, given to him by the president after his eighth birthday, after he'd made his first kill.

Shin-Ra Electric Company hadn't yet dominated the world as the one, true government, and the independent cities skirmished and fought each other for supremacy. Kalm, being an independent city, had organized an attack on Fort Condor; Shin-Ra's only other military stronghold, aside from Junon at the time.

Eight-year-old Sephiroth had been in the middle of lunch – Spaghetti O's, broccoli and apple wedges, washed down with a tall glass of milk – when Professor Hojo came into the lab and handed him a manilla folder. Reading it carefully, the young boy tasted a meatball rot in his mouth when he got to his mission objective. He looked to Hojo questioningly.

"Study the target well, Sephiroth," Hojo's cackled, "you leave in an hour."

Sephiroth would never forget that lunch.

The 'target' had been a deserter from Shin-Ra's growing army, and was leading a group of untrained peasants, hoping that if they could take Fort Condor, they could arm themselves well enough to move on to Midgar. It had been easy to gain access to the leader, though Sephiroth couldn't remember how he'd done it. What was clear, was the kill. The man, Kenji Morioka, a fresh faced, dark-haired guy in his early twenties, had laughed when Sephiroth drew his standard-issued short sword. He had still been laughing when Sephiroth plunged the cold, gleaming metal through his throat. Drenched with blood, the silver-haired child watched as the light in the man's eyes flickered out, and he felt powerful.

Shin-Ra's army had seized control of Kalm the very next day, and it had officially become part of the 'empire.'

Sephiroth had been given his room after returning from his mission. President Shin-Ra and Professor Hojo, who Sephiroth now knew was his father, had quarreled about it. Hojo hadn't wanted the boy to leave the labs, but the president argued that if Sephiroth was to become part of the military, then must live amongst the men. The scientist had continued to protest vehemently and didn't acquiesce until the fat, balding man had threatened to cut his funding.

The child had been led by the hand and brought to this room. He hadn't minded the size because it wasn't the labs and it was his, and he had privacy. From that day forward, Sephiroth had been part of the army, starting out as a cadet, and moving up the ranks when the SOLDIER program had been introduced.

So many memories were threatening to overtake him, that if he didn't ground himself in the here and now, he would drown. Eyes darting around the darkened, Mako-illuminated room, he caught the glitter of the mirror above his dresser. He recoiled when he came face to face with his younger visage. General Sephiroth, the silver general, Demon of Wutai – tall, handsome, tone, evenly proportioned – had been replaced. In his stead stood a not-so-tall, lanky, fifteen year old, who had yet to fill out, with mid-back-length silver hair, overly-large green eyes, and sickly, alabaster skin. He shifted his eyes from the mirror, instant self-loathing clinching his gut. He was shocked to remember a time when he did hate himself. The other men in the army would make fun of him, calling him albino, freak, alien or mutant, and despite Hojo telling him of his special destiny, all he had wanted was to be accepted.

He tried to swallow the emotion of inadequacy, but those green, listless eyes that were too big for his face, continued to glance at him through the mirror, and the feelings he'd had as a teenager refused to leave. Frustration was building. Sephiroth was the most powerful man on Gaia, a man who had lead armies to victory, a man who conquered a nation, a man who had resisted the magical calling of the Lifestream, yet here he stood, an insecure teen who wanted to smash his mirror just so he wouldn't have to look at himself.

Willing himself to move again, the silver-haired boy, crept on unsteady legs to his bed. Ungainly, he let himself flop down, face first, and tried to reconcile his two halves. His older, wiser self was the one in control of his mind; his younger, inexperienced self was in control of his emotions. '_This is not what I had anticipated,_' he thought. '_How am I supposed to dominate the world, when I can't even reign in these raging, teenage hormones that impair my judgment?' _It required focus, discipline and and a measure of emotional balance to wield the powers he was capable of using. '_Those powers are off limits to me until...I grow up._' With a vexed sigh, he punched his mattress. He suddenly felt afraid.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

The rumbling of the sky and the shaking of the tower snapped Genesis from his slumber. A cold sweat covered his body, making his white tee-shirt and black jeans cling to him like a second skin. Dreams of Mako, sickness, fire, steel, and his – mother? – had the redhead anxious and ill at ease. He tried to clear his head from the fog of sleep, but some parts of the vivid imagery from his subconscious hung just beyond his power to banish them.

In the part of the dream that he remembered, he was at home in Banora and he was sick. He had been calling out to his mother, but she wouldn't come. Outside he could hear the sounds of battle and his dream-self knew a Shin-Ra renegade had led troops here, and they were cutting down innocent civilians. He had called for his mother a second time, and she finally appeared in his doorway. She didn't look like his mother, but he knew it was her. She had blond hair, the most beautiful baby blue eyes, a glowing complexion, and she wore antiquated battle-armor. He hadn't thought anything of her unusual appearance, as dream-selves are wont to do, and pleaded with her,

"Mother, I'm sick! My hair has turned white."

His mother glared at him before her features fell in a look of pity. She turned her face from him. Upon her disappearance, a faceless scientist came into his room and started his Mako treatments. Genesis hadn't objected that the needle being used was in the form of a multiheaded, red dragon; he only cared that the Mako was stopping his hair from becoming whiter.

At one point in the dream, the scientist had vanished and SOLDIERs had entered his home. He had been terrified. He was ready to leave his sickbed and fight them, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. It was Mother again, but she looked different. This time she had one glowing red eye and silver hair like Sephiroth's. He knew this time, she had come to heal him.

The dream ended with the sound of cannon fire and thunder blending.

Laying completely still for a moment, breathing becoming regular, ears trained on the angry storm just outside his window, the small SOLDIER tried to dispel the nauseous feeling left over from his dream. However, dread crept into his bones, every muscle of his frame tensed, adding to the wave of sickness, and warning him of danger.

Cautiously, as if waiting for something terrible to spring on him from the darkness, Genesis sat up. His Mako enhanced vision allowed for him to see perfectly in his room, but everything seemed distorted. The shape of the dresser he and Angeal shared had elongated was leaning at an odd angle, the bathroom door seemed to be bulging inward, the closet doors were too tall and they seemed to slant to the right. He looked down from the top bunk, ready to hop off; when had his bed gotten so high off the ground?

Disregarding distance, Genesis jumped to the floor, hoping that being in a fully vertical position would render his sight normal, and help the queasiness of his stomach pass. While he had been correct that standing did ease the need to vomit, it also served to make him light headed. Putting a hand against the wall to steady himself, he noticed the plaster was hot to the touch, and was softening. He jerked his hand away when the material started oozing around his wrist, but froze instantly when a heavy breathing sounded directly behind him, so close it could have grazed his skin.

Clenching his fingers into fists, the SOLDIER 3rd class prepared himself for a fight. He had known something was in the room with him even though he couldn't see it. Spinning around, arm tensed to swing, he was relieved to find the heavy breathing was coming from Angeal, who was deep asleep on the bottom bunk.

How long had he slept for? If his best friend was here and already asleep, it meant that Genesis had slumbered throughout the entire day and well into the night. It had to be way past curfew. Doing a quick check of the little alarm clock sitting on the dresser, he could make out the glowing red numbers, but for the life of him, he didn't know what time it read.

Feeling safer seeing Geal in the room, the redhead began to peel the sweat clothes from his body. First the shirt, then his pants followed, leaving him to cool down in his boxers. He wasn't sure why his vision was out of sync, or why he was feeling so bad, but he knew he had to get out of those wet cloths. It was only after he was partially nude did he realize that the wall gum was starting to harden around his wrist. It should be burning his skin, but instead, it felt ice cold.

Slowly, his gaze traveled to the wall he had leaned on earlier. The structure was shift and flowing slowly in a way that reminded him of lava, green paint swirling with white plaster, pooling on the floor.

'Magic!' was the SOLDIER's first thought, and he leaned over Angeal and tried to shake his stronger friend awake.

"Geal," Genesis kept his voice as low as possible, while still being able to be heard, "we're under attack. Something's trying to get in." He was on the verge of panic.

The dark-haired teen rolled away from his touch, and grumbled, "Gen, go back to sleep. It's late."

Genesis didn't waste anymore time with his best friend. He knew Angeal could handle himself. He ran out of their room to go find help, and there was only one person he knew that could save them from the attack: Sephiroth.

The hallway that lead to the 2nd Class SOLDIERs room was full of SOLDIERs, all of higher rank than him, and the emergency lights had kicked on. But they were not the normal yellow color; they were blue, bathing the usually white, sterile corridor in a somber, melancholy that left the red-headed teen feeling surreal. The SOLDIERs were all leaning against this wall or that, talking amongst themselves, yet Genesis couldn't hear what they were saying. It never crossed his mind to tell one of the SOLDIERs that the wall in his room was melting, nor did the other men seem to notice him as he rushed down the hallway in his boxers.

He pulled up short in front of Seph's door, the feeling of dread in his stomach intensified, and he felt nauseous again. The the beast, the dragon, was beyond this door, and if he went in, it would swallow him whole.

Getting a grip on his fear, unable to stand the thought of the creature devouring the man he loved – yes, in this instance, when faced with possibly losing him, Genesis admitted to being in love with Sephiroth – the teen took his key-card, which he was thankful he remembered, and slid it through the lock. The door open and he rushed in, ready to fight the dragon.

"SEPHIROTH!" he screamed.

**&%$ CBV $%& **

Sephiroth, having drifted off to thoughts of when he was or will be General, and still trying to get used to the weight of his body, hadn't been expecting the keypad lock on his door to suddenly explode, fried from the outside. Nor was he expecting the one person in this world he should have expected, to dart into the room, screaming his name.

He should have known that if anyone was going to be affected so soon after him tearing a dimensional rift, it would be the one he loved more than anything on this goddess-forsaken planet, the one who could use magic without materia, even in his sleep.

With his own disorientation forgotten, the silver warlord-turned-teen was off his bed the second the fiery redhead stepped into his room. Even before his arms slipped around his former lovers waist to pull him close, Sephiroth could tell the boy was in the throes of a nightmare, though Genesis' eyes were open.

Quickly looking down the hallway before his door slid shut, making sure everything out there was alright, instinctively Sephiroth pulled the mostly nude, sweat-covered, fever-ridden teen to his chest.

Dear Mother, how long it had been since the last time he held this slight, trembling frame in his arms. Too much time had escaped since he gotten to feel Genesis pressed against him, needing him, quaking against him. How could he not have thought of Genesis when he pierced time and came back? How could he not have considered what detrimental effects him being here, with Mother inside him, would cause to his young love?

But of course, he hadn't been thinking of Genesis at all. Thinking of Genesis, when in the Lifestream was painful and he found the memories of all their times together were more vivid, closer to the surface, so he had ceased thinking about him entirely. After he was defeated when trying to call down the Meteor, the auburn boy was the memory he held the closet, while his rage for Cloud Strife continued to pummel always at the fringes of his mind. As Genesis, who was in his own torpor at the time, seemed to forget about Sephiroth, Sephiroth had no choice but to push Genesis and all the memories they'd made together, no matter how agonizing it was, to the furthest recesses of his soul, and focus entirely on his anger for Cloud.

If there was anything he could honestly say he regretted, it would be that the last thing he said to his auburn angel; he had told him to rot. At the time the Silver general had meant those words, but he was angry. Angry at what he was, angry at the way Gen had told him his origins and the way he asked for the cells, and angry that the only two people who mattered to him, had abandoned him. However, his anger at his lover dissolved when it dawned on him that Genesis had been the only one who ever bothered telling him the truth, even if he had been an ass about it.

"Genesis," the burnt-to-memory name rolled off Sephiroth's tongue with practiced ease, his fingertips gliding up and down the dreaming teen's drenched back. Even with the redhead at this young age, Sephiroth knew every contour of Gen's body, and his own shivered once. Plans of war could wait, he had years, right now, after seeing the redhead for the first time in almost a decade, all he wanted to do was touch the boy.

Lifting his love bridal style, Sephiroth carried him to the bed, and gently, so as not to wake him, laid him down. The second class crawled on the bed beside him and began to recommit Genesis physic to his memory.

He had forgotten how devastating the youth's nightmares could be, and how many times, when they were young, he had woken to find Gen had crawled in bed with him, seeking protection from the visions only he could see. Almost chuckling, Sephiroth reminded himself that they were young now, so that was something he would look forward to. He refused to disturb his lover's dreams, unperturbed by the way Genesis called out his name as if they were making love. Some might find it cruel of Sephiroth not to wake the boy, but Gen was usually so haughty, arrogant, willful and demanding, that the silver youth occasionally wanted him malleable and yielding.

Starting with Genesis' face, pushing wet, rusty silk from his eyes, Sephiroth's hands began their downward exploration. His hands ran down the graceful neck, over slim shoulders, rubbed down tone but not fully developed arms, and lightly tickled Gen's palms. There was a slight reaction, but nothing more than a mummer. His fingers glided across his lover's chest, softly tweaking the small, pink nipples, before moving on. His digits danced over the redhead's washboard stomach, one of Sephiroth's favorite features, and though longing to kiss the glistening skin, he withheld; he wanted Genesis awake for that.

He was about to rid the third class SOLDIER of his boxers, when he suddenly pulled away, flushed and embarrassed. _'Genesis will be upset if he wakes up and finds me taking advantage of him,'_ the warlord's teenage mind intervened. His adult self fired back, '_He's my lover, I'm allowed to touch him.'_ Sephiroth felt his cheeks reddening, and averted his gaze from the body beside him, heat causing his groin to ache, '_He's not my lover yet, but...he's beautiful and I want to keep touching him. But what if he doesn't like me like I like him? What if he rejects me?_' Still ungraceful and awkward, he threw his hand over his face. '_He's not going to reject me. He likes me...hell, he loves me. We've been together for years._' Sephiroth groaned, he was starting to hate the fact his young mind and his adult mind weren't reconciled. '_This time it's different. Things have changed just because I'm here. And this time he might not like me._'

The older part of Sephiroth gave up. His teenage body and mind were producing feelings of insecurity and overwhelming bashfulness that he just couldn't fight. He wanted to be with Genesis, wanted to hold him, kiss him, touch him, and caress him, but right now, he was feeling ashamed of what he'd done, and that was overriding the desire that made his cock hard and fueled the need to possess.

"Seph?" The voice was weak, but sounded alert. "How did I get here?"

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, and thankful he had stopped himself when he did, the Second replied, "I am assuming you walked down the hall, then cast a fireball at my lock." His voice, which hadn't actually been tried out yet, sounded strange and foreign to him.

"Seph," Genesis sat up and blushed, his flesh becoming the same shade as his hair. He felt stupid. He was sitting in his hero's bed, in only his boxers, shaking like a little girl. He wanted to flee and crawl under a rock and die. He would also settle for the ground opening up and swallowing him whole. He said the only thing that came to mind, "my wall is melting."

Sephiroth couldn't look at Genesis. His older self had retreaded, leaving him alone to turn crimson because he didn't want his friend to see how tight his pants had become. He turned flipped on his side, giving his back to the redhead.

"You were having a nightmare, Gen. I highly doubt your wall is melting. If it were, every alarm in the tower would be shrieking."

Being in this close of proximity, Genesis experienced the heat radiating of the silver warrior's body and he wanted to be enveloped by it, not to mention he was still frightened by the dream he'd had. Forcing down his pride, hoping not come across as timid, the redhead steadied his voice and asked, "Seph, can I stay here with you tonight?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Genesis." The second class SOLDIER wanted to say yes, he wanted his former lover to stay right where he was, but he knew if the teen stayed, he would loose the battle within himself . He would claim Gen whether Gen wanted it or not.

"Oh. Um...alright then...I-I should go."

The auburn-haired third class stood, and feeling completely dejected, eyes starting to mist with tears, Genesis shuffled to the door. "Sorry about your lock," he said before leaving.

"Goodnight, Genesis."

Sephiroth kept himself rooted to the bed, resisting the urge to call the boy back. He would take Genesis when the time was right, and now was not that time. He had to be more in control of himself.

Waiting until he was positive Genesis wouldn't return, Sephiroth slid his hand down his pants and quickly, with thoughts of the redhead writhing beneath him, relieved himself of the ache that had built.

**&%$ CBV %$& **

The following morning, having fit more fully into his teenage body, and trying his best to dismiss the images of a fevered Genesis in his arms, Sephiroth rigidly marched in to Director Lazard's office. The blond behind the desk, dressed immaculately in a soft-pink jacket, matching cravat and pristine white slacks, was sorting through papers littering his desktop.

"Sir!" Standing at attention, the silver warrior announced his presence.

Lazard peered over the rims of his silver-framed spectacles, his blue eyes widening at bit at seeing Sephiroth in his office so early.

"At ease, SOLDIER Second Class Sephiroth." When the SOLDIER's stance relaxed ever so slightly, the director continued, "What can I do for you this morning?"

In no mood to play games, ready to assert his own authority, Sephiroth leaned forward menacingly, his emerald, cat-slitted eyes constricting. His thin lips formed a snarl that had the blond pushing himself deeper into his chair, as if that offered any sort of defense against the threat looming just across the desk. With a voice that was a low and deadly as the rest of him, somehow sounding older today than any time previously, the Second Class hissed, "Genesis, he is to receive his first mission within the week, and it WILL be just as important and dangerous as the ones any other SOLDIER would get. Do I make myself clear?"

Lazard broke away from the glare and shifted uneasily in his chair. He had never seen Sephiroth like this and he was mortified. He had to pull it together. He couldn't let any of the SOLDIERs see him as weak and easily cowered.

Adjusting his cravat, and positioning himself so he was back to sitting up straight, he locked eyes with the young man once again.

"Sephiroth, I will gladly give Genesis a mission as soon as his Wilderness Survival instructor, Sargent Blakemore signs off on his mission sheet. Until then, my hands are tied. You don't like the rules, either go speak with the Sargent or the President."

The silver Second eased off. He had always admired the nerve of the director, even if he was an embezzling scumbag who had used blackmail to get his position.

"Very well, Director, I shall. Good day."

Sephiroth exited the office in the same stiff manor he'd entered. He was going to pay this Sargent Blakemore a visit.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

TBC


	3. Chapter 3: His First Time

_Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix_

_Rating: NC-17_

_Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Language, Violence_

_**Summery: After being defeated twice, Sephiroth finally understands what he really wants, however the only way to get it is to go back to a time before he made his mistakes. Time travel fic. Rated for yaoi, graphic sex and violence in later chaps. Sephiroth/Genesis **_

_AN: The numbers of employees of the Shin-Ra tower is loosely based on the number of employees for the Empire State Building minus a couple thousand. _

_AN2: Many thanks to the awesome reviewers who I answer personally, I love you guys. And thank you to the readers who follow this story, and those who have favored and/or alerted. _

_Betaed by Nephilim Rising and Chance969. You both are amazing. (Side note: a portion of the final scene for this chapter was not betaed, so all mistakes belong to me. Neph and Chance are wonderful) _

**&%$ CBV $%&**

How one person could allow another person to have control over them is a baffling question; one that many never think about, yet fall victim to. Some people have a tendency to let others influence their moods, their behaviors, and even their thoughts. If a person gives away enough of themselves, they become little more than worthless puppets, discarding their own likes and dislikes, their own pleasures, simply to dance to the song of another. A persons self-worth can become totally dependent on the way others view them, and that person will strive, at all costs, even if it means becoming something they are not, or hiding who they are, for the sake of acceptance. It really is a pathetic state to exist in, proving the person to be weak and spineless; a gutless wretch who's value as anything more than a slave is meaningless.

Genesis was pondering this; his own sense of self-worth having been called into question. Did he think so little of himself as to allow one rejection, given in the middle of the night, after a walking nightmare, to alter his opinion of who he was? Was he one of those people who defined his integrity and dignity by what others thought of him? Occam's razor, in the most popular interpretation, states that usually the simplest explanation is the correct one. In his case the simplest explanation was he refused to allow another to define him.

Being raised to know he was better than everyone else and having been taught early on to take pride in himself and his accomplishments, Genesis had the ego of ten SOLDIER First Classes. Some would call it arrogance or haughtiness, and some like Angeal, would venture to claim it hubris. The redhead knew better. It was merely high self-esteem.

The fact that he wasn't getting missions was a blow to his pride, but he knew exactly why he was being held back, and the reason was too embarrassing to share, even with his best friend. But that wasn't what had him in the shower, hoping the water that was rinsing out the shampoo would also wash away the tears that were ready to fall.

Sephiroth had said no, had flat out denied him, and it stung.

Waking up in his superior's bed had been awkward, but also thrilling. There for the first few moments after coming out of the dream and realizing where he was, he was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. His body was tingling as if he'd been touched, and logic dictated that Sephiroth indeed had touched him while he was asleep; not that he minded. But when he asked, rather shyly – stupid him, Seph doesn't like weakness, and being timid is a sign of weakness – if he could spend the night, the silver-haired beauty had refused.

Why did that hurt so much?

He believed Sephiroth liked him in the same way that he liked Seph. And when they almost kissed... Looking back, Genesis realized it wasn't like they were kissing, Sephiroth had just been using his superior strength to dominate him. That part didn't hurt as much as it pissed him off. No one, not even Shin-Ra's raising star and poster boy, would make a fool of him.

Decisive action; it was the auburn SOLDIER's motto, and right then, Genesis decided that his next action would be to completely ignore the boy he was in love with. If the Second could refuse him, two could play at that game. He was better than Sephiroth anyway, he just wasn't willing to compromise his morals to obtain...anything.

Feeling much better after reminding himself that no one influenced his views about himself, the teen turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips and stepped out. He wasn't surprised to see Angeal in the bathroom, hogging the sink and mirror to shave, however, it did cramp the already small space.

"I thought you'd be in there longer," was Angeal's good-morning greeting to his friend. The dark haired man tightened his upper lip and removed the overnight growth that decided to make its home the patch of skin between Angeal's top lip and his nose.

"Good morning to you, too," Genesis replied, taking a seat on the commode so he could watch his friend for a little while. He had always been envious that Angeal had to shave. He himself had been cursed with having almost no hair on his body at all. Even the hair in his most private area's was light and wispy, he didn't even have a 'happy trail', so forget about hair growing on his face. However, to make up for his man-growth, the gods saw fit to give him a plethora of freckles across his chest, arms and back. The fates really were cruel.

"Where did you go last night?" Angeal ran the razor, a cheap, yellow tool made of plastic, down his cheek.

"I was sleep walking, and I ended up in Sephiroth's room," Genesis told him honestly.

Leaving the stubble on his chin alone, the broad SOLDIER rinsed his face, and splashed on aftershave, before turning his head towards his friend. "Gen, you don't have to lie to me. If you and Sephiroth have something going on, that's okay. You don't need to tell me you were sleepwalking if you were sneaking out to see him. It's not like everyone doesn't already know you two are a couple."

Having been in Midgar for almost a year, and hearing how flat the people's accents were, Genesis could pick out the slight draw in his and Angeal's speech patterns when they said anything over two words. They had a tendency to over-enunciate their _A_'s.

Genesis flipped his hair, hitting his friend with droplets of water, "As if." Not realizing his flesh was turning the same color of his hair, both from embarrassment and anger, he growled, "Sephiroth and I are NOT a couple. Besides," he was tossing his hair flamboyantly now, "who would want to date that albino freak anyway?"

"That's not nice, Gen. He's our friend."

"No, he's your friend. I don't care if I ever see him again. And I was sleepwalking, thank you very much."

Angeal crossed his arms over his muscular chest and shook his head. "Genesis, I'm ashamed of you. I don't know what happened between you two, if you guys broke up, had a fight or what, but you shouldn't talk like that about Seph. We are the only friends he has."

When Genesis narrows his eyes, it means he's on the verge of a major explosion, and at that point, one should take cover. Unless, of course, you are Angeal Hewley, who has survived the Genesis volcano many times. So, when Angeal saw the look, he merely braced himself.

"You have no idea what happened last night. You weren't there. You don't know how he is or what he's truly like. He puts on a front to you, and like the naïve country boy you are, you blindly fall for it. You think he's wonderful, you think he's perfect, and you idolize him. Well, let me tell you something, Angeal Hewley, Sephiroth is NOT a god." The redhead was shouting, his pompous demeanor evaporated. You are the only friend Sephiroth has, because he adores the way you worship the ground he walks on. He doesn't want me around, and he made it perfectly clear last night."

Angeal knew better than to interrupt Gen during one of his tirades, so he waited until he was finished before adjusting his pants and kneeling before his outraged best friend.

"Tell me what happened, Gen. I'm listening." The brawny teen could see the shimmer in Gen's Mako-infused blue eyes, and knew he was close to crying.

Genesis took a deep breath, and told Geal everything. The nightmare, him throwing fire at Seph's lock, though it was a card-key in his dream, the feeling like Sephiroth had touched him, and finally, he told him about Seph kicking him out. When he was done speaking, the tears that had been threatening to fall all morning, were spilling.

Angeal dropped his face into his hand and stifled a chuckle. He made sure he was under control before he raised his head and locked eyes with the auburn SOLDIER. "I find it funny that I'm the naïve one, but you are clueless. You say it felt like he was touching you, but when you asked to stay all night, he said no. Then he had rolled over, turning his back to you?" He waited for Genesis to nod before continuing. "Gen, did you ever stop to think that maybe he told you to leave because he wanted you too much, and maybe he was hiding...an erection?" Angeal thought being blunt was best, because sometimes Genesis just didn't get it.

The auburn teen's eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect little 'O'. He blushed to the roots of his hair. He hadn't thought about that. He tried really hard to picture Sephiroth hard, but that didn't seem possible; thinking about his silver-haired friend with a boner felt sort of...sacrilegious.

"Oh..." Gen sounded even younger than he was as he wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.

"Yeah. See, Gen," the dark-haired SOLDIER stood, "even if you two don't see it, the rest of us do. You guys stand a little too close sometimes, and if you're not touching him then he is touching you, even if just standing shoulder to shoulder. And there's this look you guys get when you think no one else is watching. I've even noticed Seph has been taking more and more missions that wont keep him gone longer than a day or two. Genesis, he's in love with you, and I already know you're in love with him. Why are you getting so paranoid about this?"

"But Geal, how can you want somebody too much, but then tell them to go away?"

"Because Sephiroth respects you. I'm pretty sure he'd want everything to be perfect your first time."

"He hasn't even kissed me yet."

"Have you kissed him?"

"Noooo." Of course he hadn't kissed Seph first. That's not how it worked. Sephiroth had to kiss him first. He wasn't sure exactly why it was supposed to be that way, but it was.

"Geal?" Genesis could tell the bigger boy was trying his hardest not to laugh at him, and though it should be upsetting him, he was only growing more perplexed. "How do you know so much about...well...it?"

A dark eyebrow raised, "It?"

"Yeah. You know..._It! _Sex."

Angeal couldn't contain his chuckle this time. "Dear Gaia, Genesis, I am a man. I think I know how it works."

Genesis' eyes narrowed, "You're not a man. You're the same age as me."

Waving off the insult, Angeal continued to laugh, "And there in lies the difference. While I am a man, you are still just a boy. Besides, don't you listen to how the other guys talk in the showers? If you paid any attention, you'd be an expert on the subject of sex."

The redhead shot up and swept past his friend, "I am not a boy...I'm a man too, you know!" Stopping in the bathroom doorway, he turned to look over his shoulder, "And you just wait, Angeal Hewley, he is going to kiss me, and...we are going to have sex." He nodded for emphasis before making a dramatic exit and slamming the door.

Grinning from ear to ear, the brawny SOLDIER couldn't resist calling out, "Less than two minutes ago he was an Albino Freak."

"Shut-up Geal!"

**&%$ CBV $%&**

As he suspected, Genesis still had no missions scheduled on his PHS, but after the talk he and Angeal had, he wasn't going to complain. He was elated to learn that the only reason Sephiroth told him to leave was because he wanted him. That still didn't make much sense, because Genesis always thought you went after something you wanted, but he did understand the part about wanting the first time to be perfect. Now he just had to figure out how to make it perfect. Maybe a candle-light dinner in Seph's room. He would go into the city later and buy candles – the scented kind – and steaks; he could buy those at Ifrit's Grill, only the best steakhouse in the city.

The talk had also granted him the self-confidence he needed confront the source of his hindrance; the person holding him back from receiving missions. He waited for Angeal to leave. Then dressed in his Third Class blue uniform, he made his way through the complex, going to tell off Sergeant Blakemore. He had already passed the survival class, now all he needed was the signature. Yet what the Sergeant required from him to get that signature was despicable.

No SOLDIER trainer should ever ask for '_that_' and besides, he was going to erase his earlier self-doubts about him and Sephiroth by standing up for himself.

Walking into the lecture room, Genesis marched up to Sergeant Blackmore's desk, his Wilderness Survival check sheet in hand. After a moment of obviously being ignored, he cleared his throat. The Sergeant, a large black man with an obscene, bubbled-up scar running from his ear to the corner of his mouth, was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, reading some sort of wildlife guide. His head poked out from behind the book when Genesis got his attention.

"Ah, SOLDIER Rhapsodos, what can I do for ya?" His grin exposed a rotting tooth in the lower front.

"Sign my paper," Genesis demanded, slamming the check sheet on the desk.

The man dropped his feet to the floor and crossed his arms, which Genesis noted, the biceps were larger than his head. His grin only widened. "Well, Mr. Rhapsodos, we've already discussed the terms of me signing you off."

Genesis pushed the paper closer to the Sergeant, refusing to be intimidated by the man's large size. "Sign it or I will tell."

A deep, gut rumbling chuckle erupted from the dark man's plump lips. "And what are you gonna tell, SOLDIER. That you were a poor student who needed your classmates on every assignment, just so you could barely pass?"

Blue eyes narrowed, and Genesis flipped his hair back, holding his head high, "No you scumbag," he kept his voice low and dangerous, " I will tell Director Lazard what you said I had to do for you to sign it. Now sign the FUCKING PAPER."

Sergeant Blakemore, Scarface to his friends, 'the ugly man' to the pretty little boys he was so fond of, only laughed louder at the redhead's outburst. He'd had little SOLDIERs like this one before. They were all the same, outraged and disgusted with the final stipulation placed before he would sign their papers. It was almost funny how they always believed that by threatening to tell, he would do what they wanted. It would have been comical if they weren't so helplessly pathetic when he was through with them. None of them ever told. In the end, they were too ashamed by the white, sticky goo that covered their adorable little faces. The pretty boy in front of him would be no exception.

"Very well, come with me," the Sergeant grabbed Gen's paper and headed into the supply room in the back of the class.

"Why don't you sign it out here so I can go?" Genesis had to swallow down the feeling of uneasiness that swept over him.

"Why don't you get your ass in here before I burn the fucking thing."

A slow dread, the kind that makes one nauseous and dizzy, began to creep up on the teen. He didn't want to do this. He did not want to enter that supply room, but...he needed his paper. As his feet carried him, inch by inch, toward that loathsome location, he kept chanting to himself, like a mantra, '_I will not compromise my morals. I will not compromise my morals.' _

After walking the farthest distance he'd ever gone, the teenage SOLDIER entered the storage space. It was nothing more than a closet really, with extra packs of paper, pencils, maps, pens and folders all stacked neatly along one wall of shelves. The door was shut behind him and somehow Sergeant Blakemore had positioned himself between Genesis and the door, barricading the youth in.

Genesis backed against the far wall, muscles tense, scanning the area for something to use as a weapon in case the larger man tried anything. However, everything was still in its package, the Shin-Ra logo stamped neatly across plastic. Taking anything and opening it would waist too much time and leave himself wide open.

Pushing his courage to the forefront, holding his head high and pushing out his chin, the redhead demanded, "Give me my paper. I'm here, so sign it, and let me go."

The black man shook his head, an evil, lusty look causing his chocolate eyes to shine. "Get on your knees SOLDIER."

The Sergeant advanced.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Sixty-eight floors of steel and glass, the Shin-Ra Tower was a contemporary work unto itself. If Midgar was the crown of the empire, the Tower was its jewel. Home to over 300 people – many of whom are military – and employing over 13,000, the structure really was the heart of Gaia. No other man made building in the world could compete with the Tower in terms of size or aesthetics. An estimated 2 million people a year traveled across the globe to marvel at its splendor. Second only to the Gold Saucer, the complex – with its surrounding pipes of jetting Mako – was a tourist attraction never to be forgotten.

Sephiroth wasn't thinking about how grandiose his home was nor was he thinking about how outsiders envied those who called the Tower home. No, his mind whirled in duel directions at the moment.

The first and foremost train of thought had to deal with motor skills. The silver-haired warrior kept stumbling as he walked. He was too big for his body and the feeling was throwing him off balance. He would march a few steps, then trip on his own feet. At one point he had begun to sway off to his right so much that he had to use the wall for support.

He had tried to alter his body when he first woke up, but a couple of things had stopped him. He wasn't sure how he could explain to everyone exactly how he had suddenly become an adult over night. And then there was the fact that he just couldn't do it. He had the power; he felt it surging though him. But his younger self lacked the concentration to stay focused long enough to make the alterations. He had tried, but his mind kept wandering and finally he had given up.

The other direction his thoughts went was to Sergeant Blakemore. Sephiroth didn't care if he had to crawl into the man's classroom – if he was even in class and not in the field. He was going to order the Sergeant to sign off on Genesis' assignment sheet, so the redhead could finally be given missions.

The last thing Sephiroth wanted was a weak consort. The Genesis he remembered was far from weak, but the teen would never grown in strength, power or experience if he wasn't assigned missions so he could improve his skill.

The teen warlord couldn't help but smirk as he thought back to how Gen used to be, before he had become sick, before Sephiroth had come back in time.

Blow for earth-shattering blow, blocking and thrusting, the auburn angle had been able to stand his ground when facing down the silver warrior in combat. Speed compensated for lacking strength, and magic spent in place of muscle, Genesis was the only person on all of Gaia who had ever been on par with Sephiroth; a true equal.

Sephiroth would have his companion back. It was only a matter of time.

The halfway point to his destination was when Seph became acclimated enough with his body to actually march, so when he entered Sergeant Blakemore's lecture hall, it was done much in the same fashion as he entered Lazard's office earlier – tall, straight-backed and purposeful.

He wasn't surprised to find the classroom empty. There had been a good chance the Sergeant was in the field instructing a class. Noting mentally to himself to go check Blakemore's schedule, Sephiroth turned to leave.

"Get on your knees SOLDIER."

The voice was muffled, though with his enhanced hearing, Sephiroth understood the words clearly.

Turning in the direction of the sound, the silver-haired SOLDIER easily pinpointed where the voice was coming from. With a more graceful stride, he moved to the storage room door and listened. He wanted to know what was going on before interrupting something that could be personal.

It was no secret that most of the men in the Shin-Ra army had chosen to take male lovers, if only for a quick fling in a supply closet, to make up for what they were missing from a female counterpart. Sephiroth never really had a problem with this, as long as work continued.

'_But if the Sergeant has a SOLDIER in there with him, then they are breaking the rules,_' his younger self decided to interject at that moment. '_They could get into series trouble._'

Ordering his younger self to be quiet, Sephiroth realized how perfect an opportunity this could be. Not burdened by the honor Angeal was driven by, the one winged angel was not adverse to using blackmail.

Thoughts racing, a plan formulated on how to best take advantage of the situation. It was simply a waiting game. The Second Class would stand beside the door until Blakemore and which ever SOLDIER was stupid enough to fool around with him, were finished, then Seph would let his presence be known. Both men would want to keep their rendezvous during working hours a secret, and the silver warrior would have a SOLDIER and a Sergeant dancing to his tune. It was great to be the puppet master.

Sephiroth snapped back to reality, plans dissolving, when he heard the voice of the second speaker.

"I already said NO! Give me my paper and get outta my way."

There was no mistaking that voice. The way the vocals flowed had long ago been burned into Seph's brain.

'_Genesis!' _Both halves of Sephiroth came together. There was only one thing on his mind now: murder.

Sephiroth and Genesis were not yet a couple, but that didn't stop the one winged angel from laying claim to the redhead. Genesis is and always had been his, and he'd be damned if some muscle-headed idiot, who fancied himself someone important in the Shin-Ra army, touched anything that belonged to him.

Barely a fraction of a second escaped when Masamune was summoned into being. There was no time to ponder on how the teen called the legendary death blade to hand, all that mattered was it was there and crying for blood.

"Goddess damn you," he heard Genesis hiss.

Rage that had been pent up for years exploded on the surface, shattering Sephiroth's usually cold demeanor. Sephiroth grabbed the doorknob and pulled. The lock was broken and metal was torn from the hinges.

The next scene played out so rapidly that even he had trouble keeping up.

The door flew away, exposing the large black man with his hand entwined in Genesis' hair. He was trying to push the boy to his knees. The sound of metal tearing from metal caught the attention of both men and Sergeant Blakemore's head whipped around to gawk at the teenage War God. Masamune was leveled at the man's chest, poised to strike the killing blow.

Death comes in many forms, in many ways, and on that day, Sergeant Blakemore's death came not on the end of a 6ft long sword, but at the hands of an auburn-haired teen, who would rather commit murder than disgrace himself by preforming an act that should only be done out of pleasure or love.

Sephiroth didn't have time to plunge his weapon into Blakemore's heart. He had spared only a moment to cast his eyes on his soon-to-be lover, that moment was all that was needed. He saw something akin to horror on Genesis' face, and the loss of Genesis' dignity was almost tangible. Sapphire and emerald eyes clashed for no longer than a heartbeat, but in that infinitesimal amount of time that stretched on into infinity, Sephiroth read his lover's intentions. He approved and braced himself for the outcome.

"What the..." the dark-skinned man muttered before the auburn angel's slender fingers cupped his chin. The twisting motion was quick, fluid as if practiced. The Sergeant's head snapped back toward Genesis. The sound of a bone popping echoed in the tiny room and filtered into the larger adjoining one.

Though he didn't get to see the man's face, Sephiroth could imagine Blackmore's dark eyes rolling up into his head, mouth suddenly hanging ajar as the last remnants of his question was cut short.

The dead man's body fell in a heap between the two SOLDIER's. So little was the value of human life that Sephiroth barely noticed it. His only care now was that no one was threatening his lover any longer.

Genesis' reaction was quite different. His thin arms wrapped around himself, copper eyebrows arching and pools of blue crystal widened in shock. His full, pink lips were slightly parted, and from where Sephiroth was standing, he could tell the teen was barely breathing.

Seph stared at Gen as if peering into his soul. Trembling and pale, meek and fragile, trying to reconcile his actions with the time and space he stood, Genesis had never looked more powerful or beautiful. Whatever feelings Sephiroth had been having for the boy solidified in that instant. Of course the love was there, but also a new found respect. The one-day consort was no longer merely loved, he was cherished, treasured. For a being like the silver warlord, killing to protect ones self-respect was the most meaningful kill of all.

"I...I murdered him."

There! That look on the boy's face as his bottom lip quivered and he hugged himself tighter, that was the look that kept Sephiroth enthralled, endearing the redhead to him for eternity. It was the look of innocence shattered – just like the dead man's neck – and raw power seeping in to fill the void. It was the look of slow realization that washes over a person when they come to understand that they have the power over life and death.

Sephiroth was overjoyed that he was able to bare witness to Genesis' first kill. He wanted to embrace the teen and tell him how proud of him he was. His younger self wanted to embrace his love, to give comfort and support, to let Gen know that he didn't have to be scared and that he would always be there for him. The emotions became too intense.

As was customary, whenever the silver SOLDIER began feeling anything too strongly, he dropped a wall of ice, cold and impenetrable, over those feelings. It was a protective measure, one he'd learned as a child.

"You did." Sephiroth said, his voice even, detached. It was a statement of fact, one holding no judgment.

Genesis, tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes, outlining those sapphire orbs in cracked red, took a step toward Sephiroth. "They are going to court martial me," his tone was shaky. "I will be hanged for treason." A sob passed his lips.

The silver warrior was warring with himself again. His younger, more emotional self wanted to console the teen. He wanted to take Genesis in his arms and kisses his quivering mouth and tell him everything was going to be okay. He wanted Gen to know that somehow he would fix it.

No solace was forthcoming however, the older Sephiroth didn't know how to give comfort in a time like this. His heart was too swollen with pride. He had been congratulated for his first kill, yet he knew that wouldn't be the appropriate response to give his young lover.

Genesis' words sunk in, and Sephiroth found himself terrified for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. He envisioned the young teen's hands tied behind his back, being forcefully led to a steal gallows because Midgar didn't have the trees to make it out of wood. The redhead would be put on a stool and a noose lowered around his neck. Shin-Ra would have this take place on the training field to make an example out of him. SOLDIER, regular army, the Turks, and the Shin-Ra executives would be there. Everyone would be cheering on his death; everyone but Sephiroth, but he would be powerless to stop it.

The executioner would then push Genesis off the stool, and he would dangle by the noose, eyes bulging out, tongue lolling. There would be a popping of the redhead's neck, and then he would die.

Kicking himself for allowing such imagery to form in his mind, blaming it on his younger self's vivid imagination, the War God did move to collect the auburn angel in his arms. He held him close, keeping the embrace strong and tight. He wanted to convince himself that nothing was going to happen to Gen, but considering he hadn't been around in his former life for Gen's first kill...

What had changed? He _hadn't_ been there when Genesis took his first human life. Sephiroth would have remembered something like that. Did his very presence in the past mean all bets were off, that nothing this time around was going to be the same? Without letting his lover see, he let a smirk form on his lips. The fear disappeared as he began to feel completely in control of his destiny.

"No one is going to hang you, Genesis," Sephiroth kissed the crown of red silk. "I wont let them."

Genesis dropped his head to Sephiroth's chest, and the silver-haired boy could feel the tears wetting his purple uniform shirt.

"How do you know? How can you stop it? I can feel the blood staining my hands." Gen's voice was barely above a whisper.

Sparing Sergeant Blakemore, who was already breaking down into glowing green sparkles, no more than a glance, Seph started leading Gen back to his room.

"Genesis, you are being dramatic. Blood is not staining your hands. You broke his neck, there was no blood."

"Proverbial, Seph. Proverbial."

The Second Class couldn't contain his chuckle. At least Genesis was still in the frame of mind to have his sharp, sarcastic wit about him.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

TBC


	4. Chapter 4: Death and a Kiss

_Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix_

_Rating: NC-17_

_Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Boy's kissing, language_

_AN: Thank you to the readers, and those of you who favored and/or alerted this story. A special thank you to all of the awesome reviewers. I do love reviews though I don't ask for them. I just figure that you will tell me if you hated or loved a chapter. _

_AN2: If you feel Sephiroth was too fluffy, or Genesis is being too whiny this chapter, please tell me. Sometimes I get carried away with romance, especially with these two, because in my perfect world, they would be together all the time and forever happy. I've often joked with people that I want Sephiroth to carry Genesis away to "Happily Ever After." So, feel free to let me know if either of the boys are OOC, or are being too cute and fluffy. _

_Thank you to my wonderful beta's, Nephilim Rising, and gothicdragon 752. Not only are these two great writers, and have some of the most wonderful Seph/Gen stories around, check out "Pride of a General" by Nephilim, or "Hole in the Sky," by Gothic, but they are great editors. Now, even with two beta's there might still be errors in my chapters, but that's totally my fault. I will add, or change something once the chapters been beta'ed, or I will write and complete a chapter when neither of my beta's are on, and I don't have the patience to wait for them before posting. So, I am completely to blame. _

**&%$ CBV %&**

Death is not a thing for the young. Death is for the old. It is reserved for those who know and understand the world they live in. The icy, cold fingers of the grave are usually hidden from youth; boney digits pried away by the old who wish to protect those who are just starting life. They are shielded from the Harvester of Souls by their innocence and the belief in immortality. This is not a bad, it is the natural order of things. Death is usually blind to youth.

There are however, some children who aren't as fortunate as the rest. They are introduced to Death early, be it through the loss of a loved one or someone close to them. Or maybe they themselves are the ones wrapped in the cold embrace of eternal slumber. These young ones were not protected, and Death, whether purposeful or not, found them.

Among the children who have seen the skeletal visage of the Grim Reaper work his magic, there are a select few – the ones who have yet to learn what it means to be alive – who hold the hand of Death and willingly guide him to others. Wherever they will lead, he will follow, claiming whom ever they point to. These young ones, their eyes burn brighter than the sun. They have peered into the face of Death and walked away, knowledge of his mysteries forever branded onto their hearts.

Behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Fear has loosened its chains on those in the final group. They are blessed. They are damned. And they know no ending.

Genesis, who's birthright by name was the beginning, was destined to have no end. The beginning must have an end, but the beginning itself does not end. The beginning is always there to start over. The first is a harbinger of Death but it does not die because the beginning has no end.

These philosophies, they were deep, pointless and trivial, insane, and ultimately...useless.

Genesis rolled over on Sephiroth's bed, trying to force himself to stop connecting his name with beginnings and death. He wondered if the murder he'd just committed had driven him mad. His stomach turned, feeling sour, and he groaned.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he clutched his belly, curling into a tight ball.

"You have vomited twice already, Genesis. I don't believe you have anything left to expel." Sephiroth was always the voice of rational.

Death had also infiltrated Sephiroth's mind. The murder, the killing; death was a constant companion of his. Sephiroth and Death were intimate. They were friends. Death followed in Sephiroth's wake, bowed down to his every desire, even when he wasn't the one taking a life. Lovers they were, feared by all.

Ones very fist kill altered a person, seeped into their essence, twisted the very fibers of their being. If that person is as youthful and vibrant as Genesis, a mark is left, tainting their soul. Genesis – within the span of one momentary lapse of reason – joined Sephiroth in his damnation. He was no longer Death's servant, but its master.

While Genesis was allowing his first murder to change him, as terrible, horrifying and glorious as it was, his silver savior, Death's whore, was formulating a plot that resulted in Genesis not being hanged. His mind, already fractured in half, young verses old, was splitting yet again. It had become a kaleidoscope of thoughts, a whirlwind of angles, each focusing on a different aspect of the problem, trying to reach a rapid fire solution. The godly portion of himself, the one who had torn through time, could handle such a way of thinking. However, the part of him that was still a fifteen year old boy couldn't digest so many thoughts at one time. He needed structure, order, a sequence.

The younger part, by the very need of a pattern, blocked many of the answers the older part of himself could conjure, and focused of each facet of the problem one at a time. The first and foremost dilemma was finding a way to hide the fact Genesis committed a crime. Though _he_ strongly approved of the redhead's method of dealing with the issue, bringing Death down upon one who dared to try to steal his integrity, he was positive the higher-ups wouldn't see it that way. They would never be able to see the world through his, and now Genesis', perspectives. They, the stuffy and sometimes moral lot that they were, would ask questions. They would inquire as to why Genesis didn't feel the need to report the situation to a superior, never once realizing the auburn angel's dignity was at stake here.

Then they, and 'they' should be clarified as The President, Director Lazard and other member's of Shin-Ra's bored, would ask why Genesis went with Sergeant Blakemore, if he knew what the man was after.

This second question was plaguing the War God greatly. He, better than anyone, knew the lengths Genesis would go to to reach his goals. When it came to the auburn angel getting what he wanted, anything that resembled ethics or morality was pushed the the wayside. Banora, after Gen learned he was sick, was a perfect example. Over one hundred men, women and children, including Genesis' own adoptive parents were slaughtered in cold blood. The redhead was unpredictable when it came to accomplishing his goals, and that unpredictability made his as dangerous as Sephiroth.

The question ate away at Sephiroth's intestines. If he had not shown up when he did, would Genesis had gone through with the repulsive act? Would his soon-to-be lover really have blown the Sergeant just to get his paper signed? Seph wanted to believe the answer was no, but there was that lingering shred of doubt. He also wondered if Gen had done it the first time around. The time he wasn't there to intervene.

Green eyes narrowed as he looked at the curled-up boy on his bed. He felt his jealousy start to surface. What would he have done if he walked in and found Genesis' perfectly shaped lips around the Sergeant's cock? Pain seized his heart when he pictured Genesis touching another person intimately. Sephiroth already knew the outcome would have been. His very long katana, which he found he could summon at will, would have drank deeply of Blakemore's blood as he took the man's head. But even worse was the fact that his tiny lover wouldn't have been spared. Sephiroth would _not_ have stopped with Blakemore. Genesis would have also felt the bite of Sephiroth wielding his precious steel. He wouldn't have killed Genesis, he loved him far too greatly for that, but he would have hurt him. He would have branded Genesis, scaring him, letting the boy know he was owned, claimed by a monster. Beloved of a god.

Spurred on by the visions of Genesis going down on the big, black man, moving as fast as the Mako coursing through his veins would allow, Sephiroth suddenly grabbed a hold of Genesis' wrist and jerked him off the bed. A split second later, he had the copper-haired teen pinned to the wall behind them. Glaring down at him, pupils tightening to a point they became lost in a glowing green inferno, Sephiroth hissed, "Would you have done it? If I wouldn't have showed up, would you have sucked that man's dick for the mere _change_ at getting a mission?"

A small squeak of surprise was emitted from Genesis as he hit the far wall. He was completely unprepared for Sephiroth's unexpected, violent action. He trembled slightly when Sephiroth's weight crushed against him, keeping him firmly in place. With their faces only inches apart, he had no choice but to swallow down the hot breath Sephiroth hissed at him. Already pale from the stress of the day's events, he felt the rest of the color drain from his body, leaving him a ghastly shade of white. His and his friend's skin became perfectly matched in hue and tone.

Not comprehending what was happening, the question of why slammed around in his brain. Sephiroth had promised to protect him, had said he would make everything alright, so where was this sudden, hostile behavior coming from? Genesis wanted to ask, but the words weren't forming. The question seemed not to matter when his eyes, slowly becoming glacier-blue and blazing with Mako of their own, locked with Sephiroth's. He was losing himself in that arctic rage that was unique to Sephiroth's essence. He was allowing that frozen fire to invoke his own passions.

Exhausted from the fear that had held him an emotional captive all day, the auburn angel strengthened his resolve and drew from his wellspring of courage. Holding his head high and straightening his back to compensate for the height difference, Genesis pushed his chest against Sephiroth's, refusing to be intimated by his superior.

First instinct being to answer Sephiroth's furious inquiry with a "no," the Third Class ignored the feeling and bit his tongue. Mouth set in a grimace, copper brows furrowed, and blue eyes narrowed, Genesis held his silence. Since killing the man, he had asked himself the same question. Would he really have preformed what the Sergeant wanted him to do? He hadn't been sure at the time. He had felt trapped with no way to escape, and he had been afraid. This wasn't something he could tell Sephiroth, not now when the teens anger was rolling off him in tangible waves. This Sephiroth, a side of Seph Gen had never seen before, wasn't looking for an excuse, he only wanted an answer. And though Gen was portraying bravado, inside he was just as scared as he had been with Blakemore cornering him.

Yet, there was something more to this fear, another emotion injected into it, threatening to drown the fear. It was pervasive, causing Genesis' body to tingle. It was Sephiroth's fury fueling the redhead's inner flame. It caused him to forget consequence and answer in friend in the most sarcastic way he could; a crooked smile twisting his lips.

"So what if I would have?"

Sephiroth bared his teeth and grabbed Genesis' upper arms. In a single motion he pulled Genesis away from the wall before slamming him back against it, driving the boy deeper into the surface. He heard plaster crack but he was far from caring.

"Dammit Genesis, you...are...mine."

He was loosing a part of himself to his temper. His younger half had retreated deep into the recesses of his mind, not wanting to be a part of anything that might happen. Sephiroth, in his euphoria of being in Genesis' presence had all but forgotten that while the auburn angel made him the happiest man alive, he also wielded the power to bring out Sephiroth's darkest, most violent tendencies imaginable. There was no 'what if's' given to Genesis; there was only Sephiroth.

Standing in shock, jaws hanging open, Gen could only stare at his friend. Though he'd never been driven into a wall before – his back kinda hurt from that – that wasn't what stunned him. He was doubting his hearing. Did Sephiroth...just claim him? Did the man he was in love with, really openly announce that he belonged to him? Over the last few months of knowing him, Genesis had come to expect many things from Sephiroth, had learned how to predict him. However, nothing on Gaia could prepare Gen for hearing those three words. '_You are mine,'_ the phrase replayed itself in his mind. The silver Second had spat it with such anger, such conviction, that the redhead was left little choice but to believe him. He was elated and he wanted more.

Pushing himself forward, standing once again in the face of Sephiroth's wrath, no longer fearing him, Genesis did the same thing to his friend that his friend had done to him yesterday. He pressed his lips against Seph's. He was beginning to believe that when their mouth's met, it was a show of dominance, or a tool of control. The silver warrior's lips were hot with rage, opposing his usually cool demeanor. The satin skin left him with the impression of vanilla, and as he started to speak, forcing Seph's lips to move in time, his heart skipped a beat, his breath caught for a bare second, and his cheeks flushed scarlet.

"What would you have done?" Genesis challenged.

Unwilling to give into the redheaded vixen who decided to turn his proclamation into a game, Sephiroth used his words as a barrier to keep from outright kissing the teen. If he were to do so now, Genesis wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation. Already the auburn angel was skirting dangerously close to unraveling his mind, to stealing his self-control. And then Genesis would know what it meant to be loved and owned by the warlord. He would be broken and used and still Sephiroth wouldn't stop until Genesis understood that his place was to be always and forever at Sephiroth's side.

"I would have killed you," Seph's lie floated into Gen's parted lips.

Genesis shiver against him, growing hotter with each passing moment. Here, right now, Sephiroth was coming unglued. His wall of ice was crumbling. Something hot – jealousy, Genesis realized – was melting his core, and Gen was taking full advantage of it.

Calling Seph on the falsehood, Genesis dared press his mouth harder against the soft lips touching his. "Liar." He pronounced the word seductively, making Sephiroth's flesh conform to the word as well.

The mistake had been in the way Genesis talked, the accent he carried. The "L" in liar caused his tongue to accidentally graze the Second Class' thin upper lip. The taste of livid skin dancing on his tongue sent a volt of electricity charging down his spine, paralyzing him. He was about to pull away, knowing he had just breached the tenuous, unspoken contract the two had formed when they first met, when he felt one of Sephiroth's hands leave his arm, and twist in the hair at the nape of his neck. His head was prevented from moving, as Sephiroth's moan rumbled against his own chest, and the taller teen's wet muscle slid between his already open lips. Angeal's earlier word's rang clearly in his ears, '_have you tried kissing him?_'

What was left of Sephiroth's self control was forgotten when Genesis' let his tongue slip across his lips. Apples, cinnamon, and strawberries came to mind. Everything about the red, SOLDIER Third was sweet. Genesis was intoxicating, enchanting, and Sephiroth knew right then that he had lost the battle he'd been waging since he'd put his soon-to-be lover against the wall. The power the redhead had over him was as strong as it had been during his previous life. His willpower, which he usually had an abundance of, failed him. As if its own volition, his hand snaked in Genesis' hair and halted his actions.

When one thinks of Sephiroth, they imagine a pillar of strength, a tower of undominable will. That he should allow Genesis to have such control over him was unthinkable. However, that was the case. Genesis initiated the kiss, and the silver warrior was powerless against it. Without so much as a second though, dismissing all the rules he'd placed on himself when it came to his auburn angel, he let his tongue roam free.

The wet appendage barreled its way to the inside of the redhead's teeth, and he soaked up the flavor he found inside. All musky spice with an underlying hint of sugar. But it wasn't the taste Sephiroth craved, it was the feeling. He massaged his friend's tongue with his own, coaxing it into activity. When Genesis joined the dance timidly, Sephiroth knew he had lost.

Admitting his obsession, his love and desire, that was easy. However, when Genesis tossed away all his inhibitions, surrendering himself and started kissing Sephiroth in return, that's when all self-control fled. What the War God lost was his resolve. Without even knowing it, the copper-haired boy had wrapped Seph around his little finger. In their first real kiss, a kiss Sephiroth never recollected ever being so intense, Genesis made himself undeniable. In that sliver of space and time, the redhead could have asked for the world, and the warlord would have abandoned all his plans and began working to fulfill his lover's request.

Genesis' arms wrapped around Sephiroth's waist and they started breathing as one entity. Separate, each was lacking, always knowing they were incomplete. Together, they were whole; one being sharing two bodies. Both were reluctant to release the other, so their kiss deepened and continued. The pull on Genesis' hair grew stronger, their mouth's continuing to move.

Lips opening and closing, tongues twisting and spiraling, teeth colliding, and muscles tensing, neither SOLDIER required oxygen, for when one inhaled the other exhaled. It didn't matter that Sephiroth was from a different place, Genesis still knew him, nor did it matter that Sephiroth hadn't kissed Genesis in years, he had memorized the pattern.

Their bodies grew fevered, longing and passion overrode sense. Their forms melded together, each adjusting slightly to conform to the other. If asked right then, both would have claimed being content to exist in that moment forever. Genesis' hands slid down to cup Sephiroth's ass to pull him closer, while Sephiroth fingers bit into the back of his lover's scalp to hold him in check.

How long they embraced, lips and tongues becoming acquainted, was hard to say. Their kiss ran beyond physical pleasure, it was deeper than mere touch; it was spiritual.

Sephiroth regained rational first, and that was only because he had work to do. Genesis' life could be in danger, and he had yet to figure out a way to fix the situation. Their kiss trailed off on its own. Ever so slowly, loathing to leave the others arms, the boys parted.

Dropping his head so that his silver bangs hid his face, the younger part of Sephiroth crept back to the surface. He became embarrassed and he blushed. '_We are not blushing,_' his older self scolded. '_He's our lover, We can kiss him when we want to_.' The younger half argued, '_No. He used to be YOUR lover, in a time different from this one. He's not MY lover yet, so if I want to blush after MY first kiss, than that's what I will do. Besides, while you might remember him, I would like a change to get to know him, so if you don't mind, go away._' Sephiroth couldn't believe he was arguing with himself after such an important event. It also came as a shock to realize he was thinking in terms of "we," he was still one person after all, and his mind wasn't that fractured...was it? '_Fine, you deal with this_,' he snapped at his younger self. '_I'd planned on it,_' he answered in his usual sarcastic fashion.

"Gen, are you alright?" He asked once his heart had stopped pounding. Red was still coloring his cheeks, but he had put the redhead into the wall and he needed to be sure Genesis wasn't injured.

'_Oh dear goddess! I kissed him! He kissed me! What if I didn't do it right? What if he thinks I'm too pushy or demanding? What if I have bad breath?_' The auburn SOLDIER had turned the same shade as his hair, and butterflies were still fluttering in his stomach. He bit his bottom, kiss-swollen lip, and looked everywhere except at Sephiroth. He couldn't look at his friend right now, he was afraid of seeing judgment in those emerald eyes.

Brushing off Sephiroth's question, because he was just fine, he replied with a question of his own. "Did you mean it?"

The Second Class raised his head. He noticed that the redhead wasn't looking at him. Due to his social ineptitude, he misunderstood the reason Genesis didn't even grace his with a glance. He knew he had pushed things too far. He had let his jealousy and rage get the better of him and he had taken it out on his friend. He needed to explain.

"Gen, I'm sorry about what just happened. I didn't mean to. I let my emotions get out of control. It will not happen again."

Genesis' heart plummeted. He had been under the impression that the kiss had meant something. He thought for sure that Sephiroth liked him and had kissed him to prove it. He had also mistakenly believed that the kiss was done in part to comfort him, to take away the visions of the dead Sergeant. Was he just doomed to make nothing but wrong decisions today?

"Oh...I-I see," Genesis sounded crestfallen. He hurt all over inside. "No I don't." He retracted his previous statement. "I don't see. I don't understand. First you tell me you're going to fix what happened, and I was fine with that because I believed you, and you made it not so scary." He ducked passed the silver SOLDIER, so he was no longer trapped between him and the wall. "I still see his face, Seph."

"Genesis, the death occurred less than an hour ago, I expect..." Sephiroth stopped when Genesis held his hand up indicating for him to do so.

"But then you didn't care that I was feeling sick. I killed a man, Sephiroth. I think I have a right to be sick."

Sephiroth nodded, staring stone-faced at the ranting redhead.

"And then, for no reason at all, you dragged me off the bed, and threw me into the wall. There is a dent there, Seph. You dented your wall using _me_. If you were so angry about what I'd done, then why didn't you just take me to Lazard? Why did you tell me you would fix everything?"

The one winged angel took a deep breath. "Genesis, I have apologized for that. However, what's done is done. I can not undo it."

Genesis, who was pacing Sephiroth's floor, flipped his hand in a flamboyant, dismissing manor. "I'm not hurt. Confused, but not hurt. What did hurt Seph," the Third Class fell on the side of Seph's bed, knees spread, hands between, grasping on to the edge, 'is...is that you just said you were sorry for kissing me." A new batch of tears caused the teen's eyes to shimmer. "Am I really so bad to kiss? Don't you like me?"

Sephiroth's expression, the cold, black look, didn't change. He was replaying what he'd said that could have upset Genesis so much. Yes, he said he was sorry, but that was for throwing Gen into the wall. He hadn't meant it to be about the kiss. He had enjoyed the kiss thoroughly. He'd been so enraptured with his friend's lips that he'd forgotten momentarily about the murdered Sergeant Blakemore. He was at a lose for words. He had meant what he said, but Genesis was obviously taking it the wrong way.

'_Are you enjoying getting to know our young Genesis Rhapsodos?_' The elder couldn't help but taunt his younger self. '_We are supposed to be working together on this, what do I do?_' The younger half sounded desperate. '_What we always do when Gen gets like this. First tell him that he's right. Then go kiss away his tears, and finally explain what you were really apologizing for. Oh, and then tell him we meant what we said about him being ours_.' '_That will work?_' The younger inquired. '_We have to handle Genesis with care. But it has worked in the past._' The younger self mentally nodded and took a few steps toward his friend.

"Genesis," Sephiroth bent at his knees so he was eye level with the redhead, "You're right. I..should have explained better." Taking the advice of his older half, he leaned forward and placed his lips softly against the auburn warriors eyelids. Salt and saline wet his mouth. It was the taste of pain; a taste he could become addicted to. "When I said I was sorry, it wasn't for kissing you. I meant that I didn't mean to hurt you. I am not sorry that we kissed. I..." the silver teen found himself blushing again, "loved kissing you."

Genesis opened his eyes. The touch of Seph's lips against them made him tingle. But it was Sephiroth's words that brightened him. "For real? You did like kissing me?"

"For real." The hint of a smile crept to Sephiroth's face. "And Genesis, what I said earlier, about you being mine, that part I did mean."

Now giddy, the copper-haired teen wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sephiroth," there was light laughter in Genesis' voice, "do you want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yes!"

Genesis jumped back on the bed. He could have sworn he heard two voices coming out of Sephiroth's mouth, and the sound was a bit frightening. "Okay," he agreed, deciding that his emotional state was reason enough for him to hear things.

"Now that we have that settled," Sephiroth rose. "Give me a few a little while to come up with a solution to our problem."

In a much happier state, Genesis only smiled and laid back on Seph's bed. If _the_ mighty Sephiroth said he would fix it, then Gen was just going to have to trust him.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Looking at the situation from all angles, Sephiroth began working on a solution. It was hard when all the physical evidence pointed to him as being the killer.

The first problem was that he had visited Lazard this very morning, and Blakemore's name had come up. Sephiroth had practically told the director he was going to force the Sergeant to sign off on Gen's sheet so the boy could start receiving missions.

The second incriminating factor was that he had torn the storage-room door off its hinges, a sure indication that something had transpired there, therefore he needed to return to the crime scene. If luck was on his side, no one else had gone into Sergeant Blakemore's classroom yet. But someone would go in eventually, which meant whatever Sephiroth was planning to do, he had to act soon.

The SOLDIER Second was toying with the idea of having Blakemore being pronounced KIA, but to do that he would have to get an already dead officer to sign up for a mission – a mission he would never go on. And someone was bound to report that the Sergeant never even arrived at the transport leaving for the mission that he'd "signed on to."

Never one who liked to react to a given situation – he'd much rather be on the offensive – the teen warlord growled. Sephiroth was one who usually knew every step he was going to take before taking it. This instance didn't leave him that option. Quelling the urge to crawl on the bed beside Genesis and just hold him, Sephiroth dropped his head into his hands. What was he going to do?

The answer hit him like a bolt of lighting. He was Shin-Ra's favored SOLDIER. He was their hero; the company's silver-haired poster boy, the reason that more and more teens were flocking to the company to join the military ranks. Though he had yet to make it to First Class, he was already beloved by the press and the public alike. The other SOLDIER's had whispered that when it came to Sephiroth, he could get away with murder. It was time to see if that was true.

"Genesis, stay here...please," he didn't want it to sound like a command, "I'll be back in an hour, maybe a little longer. I would like it if you were here when I returned."

The redhead sat up, eyes meeting with his...boyfriend's. It felt wonderful to refer to Seph as his boyfriend. "Where are you going?"

A smirk upturned the corners of Sephiroth's lips. "I'm going to go tell Lazard that I killed Sergeant Blakemore, of course. By holding back SOLDIERs, he was endangering the entire program. It is my responsibility to take care of my comrades.

Worry crossed Genesis delicate features. "Do you really think you wont get in trouble?"

Sephiroth threw his head back and chuckled, "No, Gen, I don't think that. I know it."

The other teen's lips twisted in a frown, and he pushed a lock of copper hair behind his ear, "Seph, do you think any less of me because of this? Do you think I can't accept responsibility for my own actions."

Sitting beside his lover, Seph traced a gloved hand down Genesis' finely sculpted cheek, "If I thought that Gen, I would have turned you in."

Genesis took hold of the hand and held it, "Promise you are coming back?"

Sephiroth nodded, "Trust me."

**&%$ CBV $%&**

As Sephiroth stood straight-backed in Director Lazard's office, waiting for him to return with a decision, the blond director was in another room watching the storage-room surveillance tapes. Little did anyone know that there was a camera in every room in the Shin-Ra building. There was nothing that went unseen.

Lazard turned his head and raised a golden eyebrow at the young Wutaian Turk standing next to him. "Tell me, Tseng, do you have an opinion?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Tseng shrugged, "He's a good liar. I find it intriguing that he never once mentioned SOLDIER Rhapsodos' name. There could be something going on between them."

The Director bobbed his head in agreement. "I will check the tapes from the camera's in both Genesis' and Sephiroth's rooms later. I do hope something is going on between them."

It was Tseng's turn to lift his brows. "And why is that, Director?"

"Because if there is something between them, that gives us quite the advantage if either of them becomes...unruly."

Tseng could see the wisdom behind that, even though he thought it was devious and underhanded. However, he himself was devious and underhanded, and that was one of Lazard's qualities he respected so much. "So, what do you plan on doing?"

The executive removed his glassed, cleaned them, then adjusted them back on his nose. "I'm going to tell Sephiroth I believe he was acting in the best interest of SOLDIER. However, The Board agrees his actions were a bit too extreme, so we have decided to suspend him from active duty for a month without pay. And tomorrow, Genesis will receive his first official mission."

The dark-haired man stifled his laughter behind his hand. "Since when did you and I become The Board, Lazard?"

Lazard chuckled, "Since right now."

"Don't you think the punishment is too lenient?"

"Not at all. I want Sephiroth lulled into a false since of security. The more Sephiroth believes he can get away with, the easier it will be for us to direct his actions."

Tseng's head tilted and a questioning look crossed his features, "I'm not sure I follow the logic."

"I'll explain it to you later."

The Turk had to hand it to Lazard, even if he didn't fully understand, the blond was brilliant.

"Tseng, can you make Sergeant Blakemore disappear? Make it so he never existed?"

"That's a tall order, Lazard. I would only be willing to do that for the president."

Lazard sighed, "Alright, how about making it so he was never here at Shin-Ra?"

"That I can do, but you will owe me."

"I expected no less."

**&%$ CBY $%&**

True to his word, an hour later saw the silver teen back in his room. He could handle a month suspension. Hell, to him it was a vacation.

A real smile set on his lips when he found Genesis asleep on his bed. His little love had been though so much today. Sephiroth's heart went out to him. Yes, he wanted Genesis stronger, but he didn't want him beaten down, becoming cold and distant. He wanted Gen to retain his passion for life. Sephiroth didn't think he'd be able to handle a fireless Genesis.

Pulling off his boots, pauldrons, and sleeveless, purple-knit sweater, Sephiroth eased his way into the bed beside Gen. Gently wrapping an arm around the boy's waist, he allowed his body to conform against Gen's back.

Closing his eyes, he began one of the most important conversations of his life. '_What can you teach me?_' His older self was quite for a moment, but then replied, '_about being a SOLDIER or about being a god?_' The younger thought about that, _'Both._' Sephiroth mentally rolled his eyes, '_Then the first thing you...I..need to realize is that there is no we, there is only I. I am not two separate beings. I am one person, yet there is a part of me, a younger part, that has yet to experience all that I experienced once before. And I also need to realize things are completely different this time around. I'm not entirely sure why that is, but it is, and I need to be prepared for each new situation._' And with that, Sephiroth began to put himself back together.


	5. Chapter 5: Families and Enemies

_Disclaimer: Square Enix owns my soul_

_Rating: R_

_Pairings: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Language_

_A/N1: Yes, Master Chief is from Halo _

_A/N2: As always, thank you to everyone who is reading and following the story so far. And a special thanks to everyone who's left a review. Much love goes out to all of you. _

_To Nephilim Rising and Chance969, you both are awesome beta's. And I love you. _

**&%$ CBV $%&**

The Gray Waste – frigid, remorseful, despairing. It is a state of being in where a person's world has become empty, cold, tasteless, colorless. All meaning has fled. A melancholy seeps into the soul, trapping and cocooning until there is naught left but a hollow shade of ones former self. The vines of sorrow, regret and grief grow longer and thicker, making an inescapable prison of desolation. This is the closest thing to Death the living can ever know.

In a world full of half-truths, misdirections, deceptions, and illusions, the lie of the state of Gray Waste is that it is _not_ self-imposed. The misconception is that pain must be retained; it must, for some reason, be loved and be made precious. Joy is forbidden in this place, as Loneliness is a cherished consort.

Holy is the Alter of Loss; Hope has been abandoned.

Connections to the deeply beloved are required to be severed, and the enslaved ones are quick to cut the ties, relishing pain and rejecting pleasure. A chasm of black, vast and bottomless, overwhelms the place where a bond had been.

As impossible as it seems to leave the isolated Hell, most people do manage. Something pulls them out of that state. Maybe a memory, maybe the tedium of monotony of being in such a sad place, or maybe it just fades away on its own. Those who do return come back stronger and wiser; those who don't, perish.

For those with a destiny, The Grey Waste is a permanent home. To them, the faded world is not an illusion; there loneliness is not self-imposed. They were born companion-less, knowing better than to form any real attachments, because fate would eventually render them alone once more. Nothing or no one could color their passions, could make them see a living world. Grey, drab, cold, and utterly neutral, it painted their perceptions. Only when dancing along to the pipers tune, would the world become vibrant and magical, they could feel the spark of creation. When acting as good puppets for fate, their existence holds meaning, and they realize they are to become great. They allow themselves to form bonds; their companions are those who are predestined as well, and they let the spectrum of emotion inside.

For a little while, they leave home and are alive.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Masamune sang softly as it sliced through the air; the melody a tune promising war and death. Such was the power of the weapon that glowing blue tracers danced to its harmonic rhythm. However, the blade had a different mission today, not one of painting a room or landscape crimson, but instead to etch its very existence into the memory of its wielder. Masamune was more than just an exquisitely crafted piece of steel; it was an entity unto itself, a living instrument of death – much like its present wielder, and to be effective, master and blade must be of one mind. The sword must become an extension of its bearers body, the physical representation of his will.

Going through the motions, Sephiroth felt hollow. There was no heat behind his actions, though as always, he moved with an unnatural, yet captivating, grace. Slice diagonally upward, jump back, stab, block, downward slash, block again, and counter-attack. These steps were memorized, improvision was unwarranted; they were merely going over the basics. The little spar with Angeal required almost no thought, so Sephiroth's mind was free to wander.

_'I wonder what is Gen doing right now? Perhaps he is assisting in cadet training? Maybe he is on __patrol at the pier? He could be learning how to operate the Sister Ray. Or possibly, he's no longer in Junon. Maybe he was assigned a squad already, and he is out on a real mission.'_

Loath as he was to admit it, Sephiroth hated that Genesis was gone. While he had wanted his auburn angel to receive missions, he had forgotten the very first assignment all SOLDIER Third Classes were given was the month long stay at the Junon facility. There, they were given squads to trained, head their team on missions, and learn how to take responsibility for their own actions as well as the actions of others. They were taught to be leaders, commanders, and one day, hopefully, generals.

_'But Gen is much smaller in comparison to the other boys, and even with the Mako, there are times when he is frail. And let me not forget, he can be rather obnoxious. Gen has a tendency to speak before he thinks. There has been more than one occasion where his mouth has gotten him into trouble. What if he says the wrong thing to one of the bigger guys and they hurt him? What if he gets too cocky with his squad and they decide they don't like him and gang up on him? What if there's an accident or a mission goes wrong and he gets injured. Or...or...what if he's met someone and...'_

Sephiroth was less than pleased at the direction of his train of thoughts. For one thing, the silver SOLDIER was not so insecure, that he should even think that his lover of past and present had found someone else. It was pure absurdity. And for another, he was _not _Angeal Hewley. Yes, while Genesis welfare should be of minor concern, he, in no way, should be obsessing over it. Whatever befalls Genesis will happen. Sephiroth was content in the knowledge that he and the redhead would be together forever. Why then, did the thought of Gen being injured, make him so ill-at-ease?

Spinning to the right, the Second Class easily maneuvered out of the path of his charging, aforementioned friend. The winds of movement stirred his silver hair, dusting his vision briefly with a metallic sheen, and he smirked.

"Is that the best you can do?" The taint of arrogance patterned his words.

A grunt was heard from Angeal, before a look of grim determination set his features to stone. He leaped in to strike.

Regardless of telling himself not to think about the redhead so much, Genesis had a way of infecting Sephiroth's thoughts, eroding them away until he was the solitary object of focus. Sephiroth recalled the morning he left for Junon.

"_Gen, I wanted to see you before you left," He had to practically restrain Genesis from racing off to the helipad without so much as a good-bye. He held the boy by the shoulders, trying to keep his attention. _

_Excitement shined in the teens eyes, causing them to glow an enchanting, radiant blue. He was practically jumping out of his skin. _

"_Seph," Genesis smiled when seeing him. "Hi, I'mgoingtoJunon,I'llbegoneforamonth I'llcallwhenIgetthere." The youth tried to escape from Sephiroth's grasp. _

_The silver-haired boy made his grip a bit stronger, but couldn't stop the half smirk that formed on his lips. It was typical of Genesis to rush headlong into something, forgetting anything or anyone else existed but what was in his line of sight. One of the things Sephiroth loved about the auburn SOLDIER was his fire and passion for life. _

_Taking a calming breath, Genesis relaxed. Looking down and blushing, thankful his fringe was there to hide his face, he bit his bottom lip. "Sorry, Seph. I'm just excited and...nervous. I was going to say bye, but...I didn't think you'd want me to wake you."_

_Unable to resist tracing his fingers down his boyfriend's jaw, the Second Class whispered, "You are never an inconvenience to me, and I do believe that saying good-bye, when I'm not going to see you for a month, is more important than a few hours of sleep." _

"_But after everything you did for me yesterday," the auburn warrior was starting to melt into the touch, head resting on Sephiroth's fingertips, "I thought maybe you'd want a break from me for while." _

"_Genesis, when we agreed to be..._

_Look out!"_

Too late, Sephiroth's mind collided with his body. The crack that resounded through the training room was heard long before the pain made an introduction. His head snapped back and he was sailing through the air. His thoughts were so preoccupied, that the fact Angeal had retired his sword and came rushing in with his fists, had gone unnoticed. By a strange twist of fate, the Third managed to slip past Masamune and get close enough to deliver an uppercut. The blow, which was just now registering, caused Sephiroth's teeth to gnash together, and removed the ground from under his feet.

Angeal wasn't finished by a long shot. Following Sephiroth into the air, he commenced with a combo, landing a series of punches and kicks to the silver SOLDIER's chest, torso, legs, and arms, before a massive round-house to the back of the head, sent his opponent crashing back to the ground.

Lying face down, waiting for the Mako to lessen the pain and for his vision to clear, Sephiroth cursed his crimson lover. '_Why does being fifteen and being in love have to...suck?_'

Moments passed and Sephiroth took a few deep breaths, then with his predatory grace, he returned to a standing position. He turned to glare at his friend, and if that glare was as menacing as Masamune, then SOLDIER Third Class Angeal Hewley would have been rejoining the Life Stream in that instant.

However, the look had no effect on the black-haired teen, and Sephiroth found Angeal grinning smugly at him. There was a little black PHS in his hand and he pushed it toward the recently defeated fighter.

"Call him." Angeal demanded.

Sephiroth, hand resting on the goose egg Angeal left as a reminder to pay attention, raised an eyebrow. He was perplexed.

Angeal nodded, "You lost focus. That's uncharacteristic of you. I shouldn't have been able to land a single hit on you." He motioned the phone in his friends direction again, "So, either you need to concentrate, or you need to call him."

"Hmpf," The silver SOLDIER crossed his arms. He didn't need a lower-rank to tell him he needed to focus. If he wanted to get his ass kicked while thinking about Genesis, that was his business.

_Was I always so obstinate as a youth?' The older Seph interrupted his younger half's thoughts. Surprised, he realized that he had been. He also remember that if faced with certain situations, if he deemed it necessary, he could throw a tantrum that would rival one of Genesis.' This however, was not the time to be stubborn or to tantrum. 'Caution! Never forget Angeal is our brother, and when he is not lecturing about dreams and SOLDIER honor, it is usually wise to take his advice.' _

"..."

Sephiroth hadn't called Genesis this week because he didn't want to be perceived as a stalker. He didn't want his boyfriend to think that he was checking up on him, or that he didn't trust him, or think he lacked faith in him. He didn't want Genesis to feel like he needed his hand held. Sephiroth wanted Genesis be able to take pride in the fact that he had accomplished everything on his own.

Angeal shrugged, "Fine. I guess I will just have to kick your ass again to prove my point."

"What if he's busy?" Sephiroth suddenly sounded very young and unsure of himself.

"He thinks you're upset with him because you haven't called."

"Call him and tell him I'm not upset. I'm just..."

Angeal's mouth twisted, "Just what? Seph, are you avoiding him?"

"Of course not." He sounded insulted that his friend would suggest such a thing.

"Alright, I'll call him,"

Butterflies had taken up residence in Sephiroth's stomach, this was confirmed when his dark-headed friend began to dial Genesis' number. A peculiar sensation, giddiness, washed through him. Yet, for as greatly the emotion wanted to show, his face remained impassive as he inched closer to where Angeal was holding the PHS. He hadn't known it until now, but he had been longing to hear Genesis' voice.

Then his stomach dropped when the phone was thrust in his hand.

"But you are talking." Angeal gathered his equipment, still smirking and left Sephiroth in the training room, holding the phone.

_'I concur,' the older part of Sephiroth, which had yet to merge, took another opportunity to chime in, 'being a teenager in love defiantly does...for lack of a better word, suck.' _

**&%$ CBV $%&**

"When Master Chief was a hundred and one," Genesis' soprano voice sang out clearly over the thundering sounds of boots stomping down on metal.

"He did PT just for fun," the cadets chanted back in union, doing laps around the indoor training room.

"When Master Chief was a hundred and two," The redhead, breathing hardly strained, ran beside the grunts, leading the cadence. They were on lap twenty.

"He did PT better than you."

"When Master Chief was a hundred and three," Genesis was irritated. He was hot, sticky, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and dripped down to sting his eyes. But it wasn't the physical training that irked him; he was used to working harder and training longer than most to compensate for what he lacked in size. What had his feathers ruffled was the fact he had been stuck on PT duty with these very same ten cadets since he had arrived.

"He did PT better than me," the cadets were becoming winded, their voices shaking as they tried to filter down air, and many wondered if they would make it the next ten laps. Genesis sighed. He was sure that the higher ranks had pawned off on him the guys that would most likely drop out after basic.

"When Master Chief was one hundred and four," the pitch of the auburn warrior's tone never changed, so none of the lower-ranks could discern how foul the SOLDIER's mood actually was.

Genesis didn't have the privilege of allowing his emotions to affect the way he trained cadets. There were too many eyes watching. A SOLDIER Third was sent to Junon so their performances in real world situations could be evaluated. A SOLDIER that did well here was sure of a speedy promotion. And besides, it wouldn't be fair to unleash his mood on these kids. It wasn't their fault that the commander of the Junon's army had yet to give him his own squad and let him lead a mission.

"He did PT more and more," the stamina of the cadets, many older than Genesis, was dwindling. The chant was weaker, sounding forced, and wheezing could be heard.

The purple-clad Third turned around and began running backwards. It was the first time he really observed his surroundings. Inwardly, he groaned. How could he have been so stupid? The room was much bigger than he first estimated.

When he started training in the indoor exercise area, he hadn't given the size of the place much thought. Why should he? He was a Mako-infused SOLDIER after all, and running laps around the room a few dozen times, would be no problem. And it hadn't been...for him. On the other hand, for your average, everyday cadet, running ten laps around this place would have been sufficient, but Genesis had them on lap twenty, and wanted to go for thirty.

"Alright, meat shields," Genesis called, breaking the cadence, feeling somewhat guilty for the oversight, "walk it off. Take five then line up in formation."

Mentally, he kicked himself for not taking into account the simple fact that the cadets were not even in the standard army yet. Had it not been such a terrible mistake, one that could potentially be deadly, he would have laughed. He had been drilling the boys like they were SOLDIERs.

'_And this is why I haven't been given my own squad,_' he chided himself, hating the fact that when it came to skill of observation, he lacked it almost completely. One couldn't afford to forget something so vital and expect to raise in the ranks of Shin-Ra.

"SOLDIER Rhapsodos," one of the boys yelled over to him.

Turning around, lowering his canteen, he cursed yet again at the fact that sometimes the happenings of the world around him went unnoticed. Genesis found the squad gathered in a semi-circle, huddling over one of their fallen comrades.

"SOLDIER Rhapsodos, Sir," the same boy said, sounding panicked, "it's Bobby. I think he's dying."

Rushing to the center of the group, the redhead prayed like hell that nobody was dying. That's just what he needed, for someone to die on his watch, during PT. There would be no saving him from a court martial then.

A sigh of relieve escaped him when, leaning over "Bobby," he found a three-hundred pound boy with buzzed hair, coughing, trying to hack up a lung. The kid's pock-marked face was redder than the leather duster Genesis wanted when he became a First, and gobs of spit were flying from his meaty lips.

Rolling his eyes, the SOLDIER hefted the cadet to his feet. "He's not dying," he addressed the over-reactive boy, Graham Mitchell. "He's just fat."

Taking a step away from Bobby, aka, Cadet Green, if Genesis remembered correctly, he crossed his arms, "Hey Doughnut, you can't breath when you're flat on you back, especially with a gut like that."

The teens doughy face scrunched up, and for a moment Genesis thought the kid was going to cry. But Bobby held his tears in the corners of his big brown eyes, and the auburn Third found himself impressed. He knew the pain of being made fun of, however, he couldn't afford to be too nice and understanding, it was his job to turn these cadets into soldiers.

"From here on out, Doughnut," Genesis walked toward the hefty kid, ending up in his face. He jabbed his finger into the enlarged stomach, it jiggled. A look of disgust formed on Genesis delicate features, and he shouted, "You're on a diet. If you can't run twenty fucking laps without keeling over, you are just too fucking big." Usually Genesis didn't like swearing, as it made him sound undignified, but he found it effective when training. "For the next three weeks, your fat ass is only drinking water! Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes, Sir," the boy was standing at attention now, saluting his superior officer.

Genesis was already planning a trip to the infirmary to get a few bottles of vitamin supplements for the kid since he didn't want him seriously ill.

"If I so much as see you eating a piece of fucking paper, you will be doing laps until you puke. Am I clear again, Cadet?"

"Sir, yes, Sir," Bobby's bottom lip trembled.

"As for the rest of you," Genesis paced around the tiny group, hands held firmly behind his back, head raised straight and proud, "if you see Doughnut here eat something, and fail to report it, and I find out about it," this was a role the redhead loved playing – the part of the commanding officer, having a group of young, teenage boys jumping to carry out his every order; there was so much...drama in it. Mentally stepping outside himself, detached from the situation, he could see himself as the star of an army movie, playing the lead, of course, "every one of you will be running laps right beside Doughnut, wishing I would just let you die. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes, Sir," the cadets answered in unison.

Genesis nodded, "Alright, line-up!"

The cadets were doing sit-ups when the doors to the training room slid open and SOLDIER Third Class T.J. Collins waltzed in, followed by his squad. Genesis was counting off reps when the entrance was made, and upon recognition of his fellow SOLDIER, a despairing sound that should have been audible was lost in the back of the redhead's throat.

The mere sight of the older teen trapped Genesis in a time when he was a cadet back in Midgar. Both he and T.J. were training for the SOLDIER entrance exam, and T.J. had made Genesis' life a nightmare.

He remembered their first meeting, and replaying it in his mind caused him to shiver.

Genesis had been in the barracks, getting ready for drills, when his new squad mates came in and surrounded him. An uneasy feeling clinched his chest, but he forced a tight smile to his lips, and whispered so softly it probably wasn't heard. "Hello, guys." Hard to believe now, but six months ago, the crimson SOLDIER was shy, timid and soft-spoken.

"Hey, what a pretty little girl we have on our team, boys," T.J. said to the newly formed squad and the other guys laughed. Those had been the first words Genesis had ever heard come from T.J.'s mouth, and right then he knew he was in trouble. The older teen then directed his gaze to the smaller auburn-haired youth. T.J., seeing Genesis tremble, smiled the smile of a hungry predator and slid his gloved fingers down Gen's jaw. "I didn't think girls were allowed to train for SOLDIER, but don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of ya."

With great effort, Genesis asserted forcefully, "I'm not a girl."

There was more laughter.

"Is that right, sweetheart? Let's see about that."

The older cadet's hand grabbed onto Genesis' member before he had the chance to back away. Flushing bright red, the younger boy smacked T.J.'s offending hand away.

"Holy shit, boys! This chick has a dick!"

Laughter erupted around the room.

The redhead had been about to bolt from the barracks when he felt something solid pressing against the front of his pants. Shaking with fear Genesis chanced looking down. He swallowed hard when he saw T.J. held a switchblade against his groin.

"Let's take care of that problem right now," the elder wore a cruel smirk.

Tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, Genesis pushed T.J. with all his strength and ran as fast as he could away from all of them.

He couldn't remember where he ended up that day, but after that, the abuse continued to mount.

T.J. had taken to hitting and tripping him; slamming his against lockers and spiting on him. Once, the entire squad helped hold him down while T.J. forced Genesis' head down a toilet. He believed they meant to drown him, and maybe they had; he had never been more terrified in his life.

However, he had survived, and even made it to Third Class. He had been reunited with Angeal, and eventually met Sephiroth – the man he'd had a crush on since he was eleven years old. Together, they broke Genesis out of his shell, and Angeal especially had taught him self-confidence. He never told either of them about his experiences as a cadet, and T.J. Collins had all but been forgotten.

Until today.

Genesis' stomach grew tight with trepidation when the other SOLDIER took note of him and his cadets and started coming towards them. "Formation!" Genesis yelled before the other troupe reached them. He then placed himself as a make-shift barrier between his boys and T.J. and his squad. He could feel a fight coming on.

"Well, well, well," the SOLDIER with the sandy-blond hair chuckled evilly as he marched up to Genesis. "Why am I not surprised that a little girl is training a bunch of pussies."

Genesis adorned his prettiest smile, and batted his thick, black eyelashes. In his softest, most seductive purr, he greeted, "Fuck you too, cock scab." If T.J. expected Genesis to be the same frightened, insecure little boy he'd first met, then he had a surprise in store.

By now, the two teens were chest to chest, posturing, taking in their opponent. They both knew this was partly a show for the lower-ranks, and partly because pure animosity raged between them.

"Is that an offer?" The older teen hiss down at Genesis.

Still smiling, Gen shook his head, "Not at all. I don't touch anyone that's been proven to have the clap."

T.J. laughed in Genesis' face, "I caught it while fucking your mother last week."

The redhead's cheeks turned crimson. Other than Angeal's mom, his own mother was the sweetest person he knew, and he wasn't about to let this asshole soil her good name.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but my mother wouldn't fuck an under-plate, filthy cockroach like you with the cunt of a two gil whore. She has more class in her little finger than everyone in your scummy family has combined."

It was no secret to those who knew the blond SOLDIER, how sensitive he was about having grown up under the plate, and due to his already dislike for the smaller boy, he had no problem balling up his fist and socking Rhapsodos right in his sweet, girly-shaped cock-sucker.

Genesis stumbled backwards, both hands flying up to his busted lips. He could taste the blood welling on his tongue. Taking a moment to collect himself, reeling from the blow, the younger spat out the bright-red liquid and pushed his head high. The surrounding cadets might have seen him take a hit, but he'd be damned if he would let them think it damaged his pride.

"Alright, SOLDIER Third Class Collins, we are going to settle this once and for all."

The look that crossed the addressed SOLDIER's face was pure viciousness. There was nothing he wanted more than to pound the hell out of this little bitch. Why he wanted to hurt Rhapsodos so badly was a mystery even to himself, but he wanted the boy screaming in pain. He dropped back in a fighting stance.

Raising a black-gloved hand, Genesis shook his head, though the throbbing in his mouth caused the action to be painful.

"Nothing so uncouth, though I'm pretty sure you only know how to solve problems in such a barbaric fashion." He forced his lips to form his lopsided smile. "The games, at the end of the month, my squad against your squad. If my squad scores more overall points than yours, then this feud ends, and you stay the hell away from me. If your squad scores higher, I will let you kick my ass in front of everyone, but then its done. Either way, after the games, we are finished."

Straightening to full height, the older boy threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Rhapsodos, you poor thing," he intoned mockingly, "you really believe that your group of ragtag pansies can defeat my squad?"

The smaller redhead looked over T.J.'s shoulder, and his heart sank. He could already feel his face being beaten in. Each guy on SOLDIER Collin's squad was the epitome of able-bodied youth. Genesis wouldn't be surprised to see a few of them after this month was over, enter the SOLDIER program. And what did he have? The losers and quitters from the bottom of a rotten barrel. He was suddenly reminded of cliches about lemons and lemonade, but for some reason, that wasn't helping.

"Are these losers even part of your squad? Were you officially given a squad?"

Genesis huffed. "No one said it officially, no. But they're whats left, and since I've been training them since I got here, then yeah, until someone says otherwise, they are my squad." He hadn't realized how true his words were until they left his mouth. In essence, Doughnut, Cadet Mitchel, all of them were his squad. And Genesis took pride in what was his, including the fat, out-of-shape losers. "And you know what T.J.? They are going to kick the ever-loving crap out of your squad." He ignored the sharp intakes of breath of the boys standing behind him.

"Did you just say, 'crap?'" The older blond laughed again. Rhapsodos was an endless source of amusement for him. He bent down a little so he was whispering in the redhead's ear, making sure none of the others heard him, "I look forward to being covered in your blood...Genesis."

Genesis heart had jumped into his chest when T.J. bent down and started to breathe into his ear. His face went hot, and he tipped his head to give the other SOLDIER better access. However, the blond's words caused him to tense.

"Pft! We'll see," and in a blatant show of disrespect, Genesis Rhapsodos turned his back on T.J Collins.

"My squad," Gen called out with authority, ignoring the ache in his mouth, "We will resume training in weight room two at thirteen hundred hours. Doughnut, don't forget what I told you. Dismissed."

Leaving right behind his men, the redhead was regretting the fact he had just challenged T.J. Collins to _'the games_'; he was a dead man.

**&%$ CBV $&**

The phone call with Genesis kept replaying in Sephiroth's head. Both he and his lover had talked excitedly at first, saying how much they had missed the other, and apologizing for not calling sooner. As the conversation progressed, the silver-haired warrior found himself becoming slightly more animated than usual as he listened to Genesis talk about Junon as if he'd found a new home. But somewhere in the middle, when asked if he was doing alright, and if he'd been given a squad yet, Genesis' tone had changed. He sounded distant and troubled. Sephiroth had inquired about the matter, and the redhead assured him that everything was fine; had claimed he was merely tired. Sephiroth could discern the lie. The Second Class couldn't figure out why Genesis was lying to him, and that bothered him most of all. However, he was four hundred miles away and nothing could be done about it at the present.

Genesis' sudden change of mood wasn't the only thing occupying Sephiroth's mind as he rode the slow-moving elevator down to the labs. Angeal had been right, Sephiroth did need to focus, but not on sparing or even his lover. Right now, one person had his full attention, and for the duration of the up-coming meeting, he nudged his younger self to quietly watch and observe.

The older part of Sephiroth knew things his younger self did not, and he had found a way to keep these secrets hidden from that half, deeming some information too vital to be possessed at such a tender age, even by himself. However, most of those secrets were about to be divulged, and Sephiroth couldn't afford to become emotional at this time, so he had taken full control over his body.

Leaving the elevator at the basement level, the silver SOLDIER navigated the maze of offices and laboratories until he came to the one he was most familiar with: Lab 6. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves – he always got nervous when he came down here – he slid his key card through the panel lock and stepped inside.

A steel-gray, metal examination table was the main feature of the sterile, blinding-white room. A smaller table, made of the same metal, covered mostly with needles full of various colored liquids, sat a little off to the right. On the oaken desk pushed to the back of the room, sitting beside a microscope and a half a dozen beakers, was a plate of cookies and a tall glass of orange juice. Sephiroth easily deduced he was meant to have blood taken today.

Seeing as the "good" professor had yet to make an appearance, the SOLDIER moved past the exam table, went to the desk and took a cookie. Even though Hojo was a quack, Sephiroth had to admit the man made a mean batch of peanut butter cookies.

His younger self bulked, and Sephiroth was suddenly afraid of getting in trouble. He didn't want Professor Hojo walking in and catching him eating a cookie before his blood was drawn and the Mako treatment given. Shoving the rest of the cookie into his face, the teen quickly removed his armor and the shirt of his uniform and went to sit on the cold, hard table.

Before he could remove his boots, he mentally chided his younger part. _'Shhh,'_ he commanded. _'If you want to find out who you really are, then I suggest you keep yourself calm, and stop pumping adrenaline through our system. If this is to be effective, then I need you to work with me. There is nothing Hojo can do to us that we will not survive. Besides, we are important to him, so he will not run the risk of causing serious injury.'_

_'But what about the Mako-showers, or that pink gunk he injects me with when I misbehave?' _His younger self really was frightened, and Sephiroth tried to remember these emotions. Had he actually been this terrified of Hojo when he was a teen?

_'Relax,' _His inner voice took on a more comforting tone. _'All we are going to do is talk to Hojo, and I promise, after today, the experiments will cease. That is, unless we feel certain things, like the Mako treatments and showers, are a necessity. Remember, after today, we are the one in control' _

This little talk seemed to quiet his younger self, though he still felt a twinge of fear. Ah, well, one day he would learn to trust himself. Hopefully sooner than later.

Sephiroth, re-adoring the shirt that had previously been removed, was well aware of Hojo entering into the room. The man didn't walk so much as he shuffled, and the SOLDIER stifled a smirk when the image of a slouched-over, wounded Tonberry flitted into his imagination.

"Well, well...punctuality has always been one of your stronger characteristics, Sephiroth," the scientist fiddled with his glasses before glaring at the boy over the rims.

The younger part of Sephiroth, the part that still somewhat sought praise and approval from the scientist, inwardly smiled at the wayward compliment, while the Sephiroth that was in control of the body merely stood, back straight as always, head held high, staring blank-faced at the older man.

"However, I fail to see why you are still dressed. This is routine for you by now. I do have other projects that need my attention, so I want this finished quickly."

The silver SOLDIER remained quiet, organizing his thoughts, carefully choosing his words. There had never been any doubt, regardless of what attention his younger self might craved, that Hojo had only viewed him as a project, a specimen, his next great experiment. With that being the case, Sephiroth's speech had to be powerful, else he would lose Hojo's attention.

"I'm not going to be undressing today...Father." Sephiroth's tone was cool, his pronunciation of '_father_' came out flat. "We have matters of great import to discuss. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate it if you would put away your clipboard and have a seat."

The middle-aged, black-haired professor had indeed gotten his clipboard and was writing up a chart when Sephiroth started talking. The teen's words stopped his hand from moving and he instantly looked up.

"Why, you foolish child," Hojo squawked in his all too nasally voice, "where ever did you get the notion that I am your father? And I tell you now, science waits for no man, so I would like to conclude your visit here promptly and get back to work. I am in no mood for games."

This time, Sephiroth did allow a smirk to grace his lips. He casually moved over to the door, and using his key card, locked it from the inside.

"I am in no mood for games either, Hojo. You see, I'm not playing this time around. I will have what I came here for, and I have decided to make you an instrumental figure in my ambitions. Now, I hold a great deal of information that you, _dear Father_, have been searching my entire life for. And I will give you this information, _if_, you are willing to fill in some of the missing data."

The scientist had watched the youth lock the door on them, and the moment the key-card slid though reader, Hojo tripped the panic button installed under the lip of his desk. The silent alarm would alert the MPs stationed in the building, and soon the room would be flooded with warm bodies meant only to hold Sephiroth down.

Setting his clipboard beside the plate of cookies, the older man smiled at his most valuable experiment. He only had to keep Sephiroth talking until security arrived.

"My dear boy, I do believe that one of your last injections is having an adverse affect. You are talking out of your head. Now why don't you lie down, I will give you a sedative, and then I will figure out what's causing you to have such abnormal thoughts." He prepared the tranquilizer.

Grinding his teeth, the silver-haired teen glared at Hojo while the man filled a hypodermic needle with a concoction of drugs. The Mako coursing through his veins caused his eyes to flair an almost neon green.

"I know Jenova is my mother, but she is not the woman who gave birth to me. That woman's name is Lucrecia and she was your wife." Sephiroth continued to speak calmly, even as the syringe was filling.

Hojo turned only his head to look at the boy. The effect of Sephiroth's words were clearly written on his stunned features. Silence lay between them for an immeasurable amount of time. Finally Hojo swallowed, wetting the throat that had suddenly gone dry.

"What else do you know...Project S?"

Sephiroth stayed stern, face registering no emotion at being called 'Project S.' He had known coming in here that he was viewed as nothing more than an experiment. And if Hojo was willing to fully come out and say it, then Sephiroth was already one step closer to victory.

He had fought and won many battles over the years, and as much as he would like to confide in someone, he would see it as no great loose if Hojo became just another causality of his war.

"Like I said, Professor, I know many things. But until you agree to help me," Sephiroth eyed the scientist as he drew closer with the needle, "I shall not say another word."

Hojo caught movement from behind Sephiroth. Security had arrived, and the teen was preoccupied with staring at the feared needle. Hojo waited until the captain of the military police unit slid his own card key through the reader, before he shrugged.

"Very well, Sephiroth. We will continue this conversation at a later date."

It was too late to take action when the beep went off that signaled the door to the room had been unlocked and opened. Had Sephiroth been in his adult body, and/or if he had access to his entire arsenal of powers, then the MP's that dog piled him wouldn't have been a problem. Still, there might have been a chance to fight them off, if he would have summoned Masamune to his hand. He never got that chance.

There was a sting in his left arm, a depression of fluid into his body, and then his limbs grew heavy.

Whispering, voice sounding alien to his own ears, he locked eyes with Hojo, "Tell me who you are? Explain how you became this way, and I will..." his mind was fogging over. "I will...tell you," he relaxed in the grip of the soldiers and closed his eyes, "tell you...everything."

**&%$ CBV $%&**

TBC


	6. Chapter 6: Father

_**Disclaimer**: I'm pretty sure by now you know I don't own. I'm not even sure why I put one of these up for every chapter. _

_**Rating**: R (this chapter)_

_**Pairing**: Seph/Gen_

_**Warnings**: Language, child abuse_

_A/N1: I would like to say now, because it has come up before when I have written about abuse. I was NOT abused as a child. In fact, my childhood was pretty chill. _

_AN2: Thank you for all the favorites, alerts, and especially for the awesome reviews. _

_Thank you to Nephilim Raising who betaed the first half of this chapter. I didn't have a beta for the second part of this chapter, mostly because I'm to impatient to wait for one, and I wanted to get this chapter up. So, I hope it's not too bad, or unreadable. _

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Truth, terribly magnificent in concept, enticing and alluring. Abstract in notion, truth is profound in elegance, flawless in design. Truth is the absolute, thrusting meaning on that which is pointless, filling the void of nothingness with...something. Truth, as if it were tangible, can be possessed, enslaved and guarded.

Yet, what relevance does truth hold, in something so sterile and mechanical? Resolution can be found, but absolution is absent. Truth abducts freedom, binding to knowledge and tethering to totality. Truth is the enemy of faith, brutally murdering the imagination, leaving fantasy broken and bloody in its wake.

Truth is beyond purity; it rapes and confiscates innocence. Truth is cruel in enlightenment, its state to simple for the complexities of wisdom.

Truth is cold and unfeeling, shrouded in gray like death. Truth holds the horrific radiance of entirety, perverting and corrupting possibility.

Truth does not seek but is sought. There are those who long for its atrocity, who wish for their carefully woven illusions and pretenses to be violently dispelled, for they believe truth will grant them understanding.

However, once truth is learned, it can never be unlearned, then most pray fervently to be enfolded back into the warm embrace of the lie.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

The room was chambered in silence, only the occasional deep breath, cutting through the absence of sound, ascertained there was life trapped between the four walls. Opting for a uncomfortable, squeaky stool, so some noise would penetrate the quiet, the professor rolled closer to the slumbering teen. He didn't seem to mind the hard surface causing his ass to go numb or that the cold of the metal was seeping through his slacks. It was a small price to pay to watch the child – his son – sleep so soundly.

Many nights over the passing years, he had been in this exact same spot, doing nothing more than watching the raise and fall of the boy's chest. But this night seemed different; something about the way the dim lights played with the shadows along the walls foretold of something secretive; a foreshadowing of events having yet to unfold.

A clipboard, with papers documenting the boy's vitals and blood-work results – noting nothing out of the ordinary – lay discarded on one of the built in desks, freeing the scientist's focus, so as to remain solely on the sleeping youth. The teen had exited REM only moments prior and was probably now settling into delta, which caused the man wondered what the boy had dreamed about, or if he even dreamed. There was a good chance he merely mimicked a human cycle of natural sleep. The professor knew the child was anatomically comparable to a human being, having all the same internal and external organs, and even the same same pain and pleasure receptacles, but he was not human. The boy Hojo watched sleeping was more than human, so much more.

Lighting a cigarette and pulling his stringy, black hair from his pony-tail – Hojo winced at the strands weighted with oil– he allowed himself to slip into a state of reflective meditation. In the wee hours of the morning – still a while before dawn painted the sky in hues of pink, purple, orange and blue – he wasn't a mad scientist hellbent on creating the next Frankenstein's monster or the crazy old professor locked away in some basement laboratory, preforming all sorts of putrid, vile, unspeakable acts on unwilling test subjects. Right then he was merely a man with a failed marriage in his past, a son he could never publicly claim, and too much blood on his hands. What he had done in the name of science had cost him the right to proclaim himself a good, moral, decent human being, but in these late hours he didn't feel up to playing the part of the bad guy.

The cigarette hissed between his lips, and he inhaled, letting the rancid smoke fill and burn his lungs. A white cloud encased him when he exhaled and moving out of it, Hojo moved even closer to Sephiroth. In times such as this, his hands could move deftly, and gently, and so he lifted the sleeve of the teen's hospital gown, and examined the boy's arm. '_No swelling around the entry point_' he noted, and took another drag from the smoke. That was a good sign. It meant either the Mako, the Jenova cells, or both, was working as he had predicted. He smoothed the sleeve down and turned his eyes to gaze at the child's face.

When it came to perfection, Sephiroth was the epitome. The teen was everything Hojo had wanted to be – strong, handsome, athletic, intelligent, beautiful, and virtually flawless. Thus the scientist not only added Jenova cells when Sephiroth was still a fetus, but had tampered with the unborn child's DNA so only the best qualities would prevail. Still gazing at his son's soft features, the professor could detect no imperfections. No lines or creases marred Sephiroth's smooth, slumbering continence. His skin was a bit too pale to seem healthy, but Hojo had detected no deficiencies in pigmentation, so it was never an issue to be addressed. Streaming silver hair, looking like fine strands of spider silk, framed the boy's face, giving it a heart-shaped appearance. It was as if the child was an animated character brought to life.

It would be a lie to say there wasn't a part of Hojo that wasn't jealous of his son. Sephiroth, in his youth and beauty, was Hojo idealized. In years gone by, when he had yet to be trapped by rigid structure, and choices and freedom were still concepts that weren't abstract but possessed, the scientist would have bartered away his soul, to whatever dark powers that existed, to be Sephiroth. However, with the fleeting dreams of youth passed, and having come to terms with reality, Hojo had accepted the fact that the only way to be like Sephiroth, was to live through him. It wasn't fair. Yet, when really analyzing the youth, seeing him in this peaceful state, reflecting on what the boy meant, Hojo's jealousy diminished. He could claim what no other person on all of Gaia could say; he was the father of the greatest warrior on the planet. Sephiroth was spawned from his loins, he was the greatest part of Hojo made manifest. Hojo's pride swelled, even if that truth could never be revealed.

Sephiroth was professor's greatest achievement, his highest scientific accomplishment and, on a more personal level, that which Hojo cherished most. Whatever glory's were Sephiroth's, they were Hojo's as well. Whatever titles the teen was awarded, they were subtlety transferred to Hojo. Whatever victories Sephiroth achieved, they stood as testament to Hojo's greatness. And for these reasons, jealousy was minute compared to pride.

Daring something he hadn't attempted since being ordered away by a then four-year-old Sephiroth, the older man reached out and touched the cascade of molten silver. He was careful, irrationally fearing the platinum locks to be nothing more than the trick of a cunning spider and might easily tear if handled too roughly. His touch wasn't that of a scientist examining a specimen, nor was it as unfeeling as that of a doctor checking over a patient. It was a real touch, almost loving in adoration – the touch a father gives to his child.

As it always is, there are certain moments in time that would be regarded as treasured. For Hojo, this was one. He was as God, bestowing favoritism to his only begotten son.

The hair was as soft as he expected, the lingering smell of vanilla wafted across his nose as the strands slid easily through his fingers. A smile played at the corners of his lips, and he realized that he had never once mentioned anything, positive or negative, about the boy's hair, and he was glad he didn't.

"What is it you want from me, Sephiroth?" The professor asked the sleeping child as the hair flowed over his fingertips. Tonight, his voice wasn't the high-pitched, nasally squeak that defined him, but was deeper, more throaty, melancholy wrapped around the shape of each word. Hojo sounded like a man broken, full of regret.

"The truth," a reply came from the child, who had awoken a short time ago, only to pretend to be sleeping so he could try to grasp Hojo's angle. He had to force himself to remain utterly still when the man had ran his fingers through his hair, confusing him as to what the scientist was up to.

Quickly removing his hand, a startled Hojo rolled at least ten feet back from the bed. After a calming breath, and another drag off his smoke, the man snorted.

"I thought you were still under the effects of the sedative," Hojo intoned while thinking to himself that Sephiroth was indeed a marvelous creature.

"You thought wrong," Sephiroth's voice was as soft as ever, always holding a hint of cruelty just below the tone. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a warmly, if dimly, lit hospital room. The walls were a cream color, adorned with paintings of nature and wildlife, radiating an inviting feeling. The bed he lay in was clean, the sheets crisp and smelling fresh. He was dressed in a blue hospital gown, yet his body was devoid of any wires, tubs or IV's, save the oxygen monitor on his index finger.

"You trusted me enough not to strap me down?" The teen, now wary of his situation, pushed the button to raise the upper half of the bed until he was sitting up.

Having grown tired of his cigarette, Hojo dropped it on the floor and crushed it out on the bottom of his polished shoe. "There was no point. You came to me with questions, which I assume you still want answers to, but you caught me off guard. I needed time to collect my thoughts, and were you awake, you would not have allowed me that time. I merely had you sedated so I had time to think and you could be moved to a more...comfortable environment."

A single, straight eyebrow of Sephiroth's lifted. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of Hojo's words. He had never seen the man like this, so laid back and not rushing away from to get back to whatever project he was working on at the time.

"This is my old room." It was a simple statement of fact, yet apprehension was going inside the silver-haired teen. Everything was feeling very surreal. Perhaps that was the medication wearing off.

Hojo briefly looked around. He suddenly felt very old and tired. "Yes. It is a proven fact that familiarity breeds a sense of calmness."

Only nodding, Sephiroth kept his eyes trained on the scientist. It wasn't supposed to be like this, not even the beginning. Where was the cackling and condescension that he intended to beat out of the man if it came down to Hojo refusing him answers. This was by far more eerie.

"I wasn't aware that you smoked," he felt as if he had to say something before jumping into his barrage of questions.

"I don't," Hojo replied, lighting another cigarette.

Sephiroth's lips twisted into a scowl. "But you are..." For but an instant, the teenage part of Sephiroth felt very young, almost childish and so full of questions. He was perplexed by the complexities and contradictions of humans. But then the older Sephiroth regained control and had to swallow down a smirk. '_To think, I almost destroyed them all. Why? They are...amusing in their confusion and hypocrisy. Granted, I do not understand it, but there is satisfaction to be gained from their pathetic plight._'

Holding up a hand to halt the rest of that line of questioning, Hojo silenced the teen. Locking Sephiroth's gaze with his own, he simply refused to talk about his smoking. It was a rarity for him, a vice indulged in only under times of great stress, and he felt he owed Sephiroth no explanation for the infrequent habit.

Keeping the gaze held as long as possible, not yet allowing himself to be the first to look away, Hojo studied the boy's waking appearance. He was shocked to find a resemblance. How it alluded him this long was only proof that after awhile, the professor had stopped paying attention to the teen altogether. Sephiroth's brows, thin and straight; his strong cheek and jaw bones, the high forehead, and the slight outer curve of the eyes, all belonged to Hojo. While they were features easily overlooked, and hard to pinpoint as belonging to either parent, they were there. Sephiroth was what Hojo would have been if he were alluring. Oh, Lucrecia's traits were stronger, the nose, lips and ears, but his were still present. And then there was the skin coloring, eye pattern and hair shade, but Hojo didn't want to think about Jenova right now.

"What truth do you seek, Sephiroth?" The scientist did finally look away. "The one I've fabricated for the last fifteen years to keep you safe, or the harsh, ugly one that I've kept to myself?"

Sephiroth's remained quiet for a long time. He already had most of the truth; the truth about his creation. However, he wasn't seeking that information. He wanted to know about Hojo. Yes, he knew he was mostly alien, due to the Jenova cells he now controlled, however, Hojo was the one who raised him, and he wanted to know the reason behind his existence being so isolated. The only way to understand that, he rationalized, was to know his father's childhood. It really was just a matter of psychology.

Choosing his words carefully, to make sure Hojo understood what he was wanting, Sephiroth spoke in a monotone, flat voice, "What was your childhood like Hojo? And what are the similarities between yours and mine? There has to be a reason you raised me as you did, and I do not buy the excuse that it was because of the experiment. There is more to it than that. I wish to know what it is."

Hojo narrowed his eyes, and took another puff. Offhandedly, he waved, "Don't worry," he pointed the cancer stick in the silver-haired teens direction, "your lungs filter out all impurities. I could have smoked around you from the time you were born, and you would never have any adverse side effects."

Sephiroth, though not enjoying the smell, only shrugged and waited.

"I thought you were going to ask me about Jenova, or Lucrecia and the Project." Hojo was honestly surprised at Sephiroth's inquiry.

"No," Sephiroth shook his head, "as I told you before you had me drugged, I already know about that." Then he thought about it, "there are small details I am missing, but I will have you clarify later. For now, I wish to know about you. Why did you make me the way I am?"

Hojo chuckled. It almost sounded normal. Almost. The professor had tried to make Sephiroth into the image he'd always created for himself, but somewhere along the way, he had fallen short. Hojo used to want to be popular, especially with the ladies, however, as much as he had wanted that for his son, since he had never had it, Sephiroth's social ineptitude made that an impossibility.

"I made you the way you are?" Hojo glared at the boy. "No, I was only partially responsible. Jenova did the rest. Tell me, Sephiroth, what is the earliest memory you have?"

"That is irrelevant. I do not see how my memories pertain to your early childhood. Besides, you have asked me this question before, and I have told you."

"It's relevant. Believe me." Hojo removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. "Was it the time when you were three and fell down when you were playing outside?"

"No. I was never allowed outside. You made sure I didn't go outside. You kept me hidden from the entire world until my first mission. That was when I was eight."

However, both parts of Sephiroth were struggling to remember back that far. He remembered his mission, and he remembered bits and pieces before that, but his earliest memory? Yes, it was when he fell down, here inside the Shin-Ra building, and cried for someone to hold him because he had cut his knee. But there was something more. Something his mind was having a hard time grasping.

The youth glared at the scientist. He had cried, and no one had come to pick him up. He wanted someone, but no one was there. He hadn't been outside. He wasn't allowed outside. He was here, inside the building. But what else?

"Alright. I want you to keep in mind what you just said. Now, I am going to share with you my own childhood, but only because I know you aren't going to tell anyone else. Its not in your nature to share information. Not even when its pertinent.

"My earliest memory was of my mother and father fighting. I don't remember much, but there was a lot of screaming. And then time, as it is wont to do, went by. I don't know how much time, I was told a year, and then my mother was no longer with us. I dream of her sometimes, and in my dreams, I can see her face. Do you dream, Sephiroth?"

He had never been asked that question before, and in his quiet manner, Sephiroth nodded a "yes."

"Hm. Interesting." The scientist in him filed the information away to jot down later. "When I wake up, no matter how hard I try, I lose sight of her and forget what she looked like. But sometimes I remember the color of the dream. It's red. And those dreams scare me."

Sephiroth drew in a breath. He had always believed that Hojo was afraid of nothing. Even when sacrificing himself so that his son may obtain godhood, Hojo had shown no fear. It scared the boy to find out the man who was his father actually had fears. It wasn't right. Hojo needed to be insane and afraid of no man or creature.

"As I was growing up, motherless, I found out just how much of a disappointment I was to my father. It didn't matter that I had the highest marks of all the students in my school. It didn't matter that I was skilled at playing the piano, or that I had a love for biology and wanted to become a medical doctor so I could save people's lives. It didn't matter that my first love's name was Jessica Reynolds, and she said 'no' when I asked her to be my girlfriend in the fourth grade. It only mattered that I wasn't a star athlete...You look surprised?"

Sephiroth was staring at Hojo's fingers. Those fingers had often poked and pinched him. Those fingers prodded and examined him. Those fingers depressed liquids of unnamed origin into his bloodstream. It wasn't possible that those fingers could create something as lovely as a song being played from the piano. Those fingers didn't have the right to be delicate. They were hurtful, evil things.

"I didn't know that you played the piano."

With a smirk, the professor shrugged, "It was a long time ago, before I started working for Shin-Ra. It didn't matter back then, and it doesn't matter now."

Hojo crushed out his cigarette, and continued his story. "As I was saying, my father wanted a strong, rough and tough boy. He wanted a football player, or a wrestler, or even a track star, but he didn't want, and I quote, 'a fagot' like me running around.

"I was also a convenient punching bag. After Mother...disappeared, Father began drinking. Or maybe he had been a drunk all along, not even I know. However, a routine began in our household. I would go to school, he would go to work. I would come home and finish my studies, he would come home then go to the bar. On good nights, he would come home and either tell my 'fagot ass' to make his dinner, or, if I was lucky, he would just ignore me. On the bad night...

"Have you ever wondered why I don't walk straight?"

Sephiroth shook his head. He suddenly didn't want to know. He didn't want Hojo to have a story. He didn't want the professor to be a person. He wanted him to go back to being the evil scientist that preformed painful tests, a monster that he could fear. He wanted Hojo to be the object of his dread, and the reason behind all the bad things that ever happened to him. Yet, he had asked for this, and the professor was obliging. The teen pulled his sheet up to his chest.

"No?" Hojo lifted an eyebrow. "Of course not. Other than when I give you your next Mako treatment, or when you need something to help you sleep, I'm of no concern to you. But that really doesn't matter, either."

Sephiroth was about to point out that Hojo was making it sound as if he'd asked to be created and then experimented on, but the older man hushed him by holding a finger to his lips.

"We were living in a two story house in what is now the Sector 7 slums. The plate had yet to be built, but it was still a bad place to live. Father was drinking as usual and I was upstairs, in my room, finishing my homework.

"Now, let me say here that my father was about six-foot two and close to two hundred and fifty pounds. I was roughly five foot three and eighty five pounds. I just want you to understand the size difference between Father and myself at the time.

"I hadn't made dinner yet, but it was only four in the afternoon, too early for dinner. I didn't realize what was happening until I was being dragged out of my room by my hair. I think I may have screamed before being thrown down the stairs, though I'm not positive. I remember hitting three of the stairs on my way down, and there was a popping sound in my back. Then I laid at the bottom of the stairs, crying, wishing my mother were still around, while Father casually stepped over me. He then left the house, pretending I wasn't there, hurting and crying in pain. Somehow I crawled back up the stairs and into my bed. Maybe two or three days passed before I could get up. However, when I did eventually stand, I couldn't straighten my back properly, and haven't been able to since."

Sephiroth couldn't look at Hojo now, something on his sheet, which was spotless, became very interesting. He had believed he was divorced from humanity, and other than Genesis, who wasn't technically human, he had no other bonds, especially with this man. Realization taught otherwise. While there was no great love for the man who had impregnated Lucrecia, Hojo did bring him into this world, did raise him, and had taught him that his was a special existence. It angered Sephiroth that Hojo's own father had been so vicious. It was probably the reason the professor could share no parental feelings.

"How old were you?"

"I was twelve."

"Then what happened?"

"The beatings became less frequent, though Father began to drink more. I finished school early, with usually high marks and left home after being accepted to the Wutai University. I obtained my doctorate and was discovered by Professor Gast. Thus I began my career with Shin-Ra."

"Hojo," Sephiroth said after a few minutes of wishing he could forget everything he just learned, "you don't seem surprised that I know that you are my father, or that Lucrecia is the woman who gave birth to me. Why?"

This was a question Hojo had been anticipating.

"A few months after Lucrecia became pregnant with you, she began having...what I then thought were psychotic episodes. However, after having watched you mature and remembering that she described you as you are now, in full detail, I realized she was having visions. So, putting two and two together, I figured you would probably start having them as well. So, are you having them? Is that how you know about Lucrecia and myself and..."

"Mother?" The boy finished for him. "Not quite."

"Are you going to tell me then?"

"Yes."

"Alright. I'm listening."

"Hojo..." Sephiroth lost concentration on what he was about to say and threw his hands over his face. Flashes of memory were becoming clear. There were now two sets of memories – one set starting to supersede the other. Memories that had not been before came into being. He shook his head, trying to regain focus, but the images were still there. "Is there a playground two blocks from the building. In what is now Sector 1?"

The scientist remained quiet.

Sephiroth finally raised his eyes to look at the man responsible for his conception. His first memories, the earliest one's he had, were wrong, but they somehow fit and became right. He was remembering the same event in a way it hadn't happened before, but he still remembered how it happened the first time. He was so very confused now.

The silver-haired teen had to ask of this new memory, "You can't cut open your knee on tile, can you Hojo? You were there." No, Hojo wasn't there in the memory before he had dashed back through time. Now he was. "I fell...I landed on a rock and it ripped my pants and I cut my knee." Sephiroth inhaled deeply, trying to keep the two memories straight. "You came over to see if I was alright because I was crying. I told you to stay away from me, didn't I? I pushed you away, and refused to go outside again after that...until you sent me on that mission."

"Five years you kept yourself locked away in this building, and shuffled the blame onto me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" It wasn't right. Sephiroth had not been isolated by choice. His loneliness had been the result of Hojo not wanting him to see or be apart of the world. He remembered that. Didn't he? His heart began racing in his chest.

"Because you weren't old enough to accept the responsibility for your own actions."

It was a lie. All of it was a lie. Even Hojo's story was nothing but a fabrication, at least that's what he was telling himself. The cold fire that always burned just beneath his surface, the one he kept a tight reign on, was starting to flare up. His body grew hot and his blood started to boil. "But I was old enough for you to send me out to kill people?"

"You've _never_ valued human life. Your mission wasn't the first time you killed, Sephiroth. You were just too young to remember."

"Who did I kill?" Now he was becoming colder, even more detached. He had killed for Shin-Ra, and on missions. He had killed in war and had even tried to destroy the planet, in which the destruction of Midgar alone had left hundreds of thousands dead. But before his first mission? Did he truly place no value on human life? '_Of course not,_' he reasoned, '_I'm not human._'

"Maybe later I will tell you of that incident." Hojo still remembered what happened like it was yesterday. It was an event that had almost caused President Shin-Ra to order Sephiroth's termination. "However, it's your turn to talk."

Finally able to put his rage in check, and assuring himself he would figure out the problems with his memory later, Sephiroth nodded and told Hojo his own tale, starting with the first time he had grown up with Shin-Ra. He described the Wutai War, and later finding out the truth about who he was and his link to Jenova. He explained to Hojo about his three separate defeats at the hands of Cloud Strife, and how all three times he'd ended up in the life stream. By the time he concluded his story, about his quasi ascension to godhood, and returning to this past, the sky was already light.

"Hojo," he said once his tail was told, "I still have questions. Mostly about you and Lucrecia."

The scientist nodded, "They can wait. The sun is already up, and I haven't slept yet."

Hojo rose to leave the room, thoughts heavy, "Sephiroth, I believe what you told me to be a very intense, very vivid vision, but I don't believe that you actually lived it."

Sephiroth's silver brows knitted together and he was about to make the case as to why he was telling the truth, when Hojo cut him off. "Sephiroth, time is liner. Not even the gods can move through it. If they could, don't you think a Divine Presence would have gotten rid of The Calamity when she first arrived?"

**&%$ CBV $%&**

It was well after curfew, and SOLDIER 3rd Class T.J. Collins was trying to force himself to sleep. Laying on his bed in his, eyes staring up at a darkened ceiling, the process of slumber eluded him. Instead, the time spent with his father and the events that lead up to him joining SOLDIER, played through his mind like a movie that refused to be shut off.

Before deciding to go into the military, T.J. spent every Friday night above the plate, on the football field. Luckily, the three high school's in Midgar were all located on the plate, therefore all kids, despite social standing, had the chance for an equal education. (Thank Shin-Ra for that.)

During T.J.'s sophomore year, he was starting quarterback of his junior varsity team, and every game, regardless of its importance, saw his dad was in the stands, cheering his team on towards victory. Sometimes their team won, sometimes they lost, but either way, T.J. was honestly just there for the love of the sport and to try to get into collage on a scholarship. Too bad his father didn't share this outlook.

The games won his team were especially prized by his father. "Someday, T.J.," his dad would say, ruffling his sandy-blond hair like he was still a child, "you're going to play pro and get us out of these damned slums. You're skill is going to make us rich." It was no secret that pro-athletes made the big gil. "I'm counting on you, kid." Despite the pressure, T.J. was particularly proud of himself on those nights. His dad would dote on him the entire week, showering his with praise and regardless of the fact that they were 'slum poor' he would be given nice gifts. He knew his dad was depending on him, and T.J. vowed he wouldn't let him down.

Then there were the other night, the nights when the team lost the game. The blond boy dreaded those times. They were a hell unto themselves. The train ride back to their house under the plate would be made in silence, yet T.J. could feel the anger radiating off his father. It could be seen in the way Mr. Collin's face would contort to a mask of indifference. It was the way his posture became upright and ridged. The rage was conveyed in his quickened pace and stiff movements. The fury would be contained until the front door of their house slammed shut. Then came the string of obscenities...and the fists.

"I can't fucking believe you. Are you some kind of fucking pansy?" The man would then go into a list all his son's failures and mishaps during the game, while he rained down blow after blow on the boy's face, arms, chest, and stomach. "Your team was depending on you to lead them to victory and you," Mr. Collins would sneer, "the failure that you are, really fucked up."

T.J. would cover his head with his arms, and do his best to hold back his tears, too afraid to let his father see him cry. "I'm not the only one on the team dad," the boy would whisper timidly to his construction worker of a father, "I tried. I swear I did."

"You didn't try hard enough," his father always retorted back, kicking him once he had fallen into a fetal position.

'_You didn't try hard enough,_' the words would echo through the teen's brain, while the pain of the abuse wracked his body.

"Now get your wussy ass to your room. I don't even want to see you for the rest of the weekend." Mr. Collins would order, once his anger had been spent.

In an effort to prove he wasn't a pansy or a wussy, T.J. would push himself off the floor, wipe the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, and. doing his best to ignore the pain in his battered body, march off to his room. It was only after being safely locked inside, would he throw himself down on his bed and cry softly into his pillow.

By the following day, T.J. had always forgiven his father – it's funny how quickly children are to forgive their parents, no matter what the mistake – and life would return to normal.

However, it wasn't the mental or physical abuse that had sent him packing up to join SOLDIER, nor was it the posters and advertisements of a certain silver-haired youth that persuaded him to enlist. No, it was the pretty blond cheerleader, Amber and his best friend, Kurt that had been the deciding factor.

Amber, an above-plate debutant, was the girl who had everything. Money, looks, class, charm, and an amazing personality. She was a fun person to be around, and intelligent to boot, even though she did look like an air head. In T.J.'s father's mind, the two were already married, and he had their future planned out for them, including the three grand children they would give him. The problem was, T.J. felt absolutely no attraction for her. Yes, they had been dating since they were in junior high, but for T.J. the relationship was nothing more than a status symbol and a way to shut his father up. He hadn't even kissed the girl.

Kurt, on the other hand, could have been T.J.'s other half. They shared their secrets, like the time T.J had went above the plate and threw a rock through every storefront window on Loveless Avenue. They shared their dreams, they were going to live together in a big house once they made the Pro's – big enough to fit both their families in, including their wives and kids – and be super wealthy. They even had similar goals. Like T.J., the dark-haired teen, Kurt, lived under the plate and was working his ass off at football in hopes that he might receive a scholarship as well. The two were inseparable. Even on dates with Amber, T.J. wasn't happy unless Kurt tagged along, much to the cheerleader's dismay.

But then things changed. The change was so immediate that T.J. hadn't even realized it was happening.

One day, after football practice, the boys were in the locker-room shower, cleaning up to go home. As if the thoughts and feelings had come out of nowhere, T.J. found he couldn't stop staring at Kurt's naked body. The teen was dark completed, to match his hair and eyes, and his muscles were pronounced but not overly ripped. T.J. would consider him to be cut in all the right places. The way the water bounced off him caused his skin to glisten and the blond wondered what it would be like to taste his friend's wet skin.

Feeling shameful and disgusted at having such perverse thought, T.J. tried to tear his eyes away from the lean, well-toned body of his friend, but his eyes refused to listen to his brain. He tried to imagine what it would be like to run his fingers dark hair, and what Kurt's face would look like caught in the throes of ecstasy.

"T.J. dude," his fantasy was interrupted by Kurt himself, "were you...checking me out?"

The blond remembered his eyes bulging and his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. "...what? No, no...I was...just thinking. You were...in my line of sight. Sorry."

Kurt had thrown his head back and laughed. "It's alright man, it happens. But seriously dude, if I ever found out you were gay and were checking me out, I think I would kill myself." Still laughing, Kurt left the showers, wrapped a towel around his waste, and went off to get dressed.

T.J. spent the following week convincing himself he wasn't gay, and had went so far to prove it by kissing Amber for the first time. It had been a sweet, gentle kiss at first, and had even sent the blood flowing to his manhood. But he had stopped enjoying it when the cheerleader deepened the kiss and took his hand and put it to her breast. He had pulled away with the lame excuse, "I'm not ready to move this fast yet."

By the end of the week, he had convinced himself that he wasn't gay, but Kurt's words had stung him to the core. His best friend would rather be dead than find out he was gay. How could that not hurt? He had believed that he could share anything with the youth, but learning there were limits to their friendship, no matter what they were, had broken a bond of trust.

That Friday night, his team had lost another game, ending their chances of going to the playoffs. T.J.'s father had been too upset to even fight with him after the game, and T.J. wasn't about to give him the chance to start the following day.

Saturday morning saw T.J. in the Shin-Ra military recruiting office. At sixteen, he was legal to enlist without any problems. He didn't bother calling his father until after all the necessary papers were signed, and there was no chance that his dad could try to come and get him. In fact, after that, Mr. Collins had done everything in his power to be supportive of his son.

From that point on, he was property of Shin-Ra and though he and his dad had a big fight over the phone about it, he had finally won the argument by telling his father he was doing this to get enough money to buy Amber an engagement ring. After that, Mr. Collins had done everything in his power to be supportive of his son, including writing letters, calling, and sending what gil he could.

T.J. wasn't about to tell his old man he was trying to get into the SOLDIER program, because his dad would probably have an aneurism. It was widely known that SOLDIER was for life, with no outside attachments, such as a wife or kids, allowed.

The silence in his room was becoming deafening, it was enough to drive him mad. He had tried to push the thoughts of his past from his mind, but they were about to start over from the beginning. With an audible sigh, the SOLDIER 3rd pushed himself into a sitting position. It seemed he would be lacking a lot of sleep come the morning. What could he do now that he was wide awake, and didn't want to think about his past? He went though the list of options. He could go lift weights in the weight room, train in one of the simulators, maybe do a few laps in the indoor training room. And then he remembered that all those options were off limits to him because it was past curfew. There was one more option...

Rolling out of bed, and covering his boxer briefs with a pair of black sweatpants, T.J. tried to steady his suddenly pounding heart. The mere thought of what he was about to do caused his face to flush, his breath to quicken and his palms to sweat. He couldn't believe he was about to go through with an idea just because it came on in the spur of the moment, and he felt he had something to prove to himself.

He summoned all his courage and quietly sneaked out of his room.

Getting past the MP's stationed on this floor had been easy enough , as was bypassing the security lock on SOLDIER Rhapsodos' door. If Collin's hadn't made it into SOLDIER, he was damn sure he would have made it into the Turks.

Once inside, things became a lot more tricky. He first had to make across the room and to Genesis' bed without waking him and then...well, he would worry about that when he made it across the room.

Things were made even more complicated by the fact that Genesis still had his nightstand lamp on. He would have had a slight advantage if he were in the dark, then he would only have to contend with the SOLDIER Mako-enhanced eyesight, which had a chance of being blurry when coming right out of sleep. Waiting until he could hear the rhythmic breathing of the younger boy, a positive indication that he hadn't disturbed Genesis upon entering the room, T.J. decided to chance it.

He had taken his first few steps in crossing the other SOLDIER's sleeping quarters when Rhapsodos' voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Please, don't," the auburn haired teen called out. He sounded very small and weak.

'_Oh, shit_,' he thought as the fear of having been caught tangled his gut into a tight knot.

"I'm not hear to hurt you, little girl. I just need to know something." T.J. couldn't refrain from calling Genesis 'little girl.' The auburn SOLDIER was pretty enough to be a girl, delicate to the point of dainty, and the blond found he didn't feel so dirty or perverted for thinking the boy attractive.

"Please," Genesis whimpered this time, begging.

Seeing that the redhead already knew he was here, Collins crossed the rest of the room and stood over the boy's bed. "I said I'm not here to hurt you." He was becoming quite agitated with the kid. His first instinct was smack that look of fear off the boy's face. He had been taught that fear was a weakness and he couldn't abide by weakness.

Didn't Genesis realize he never meant to do all the cruel things he'd done to him? He was only trying to cover up the fact that he liked him. The realization that he did like Genesis, a lot, hit him like a ton of bricks. '_Okay, now what?_' he asked himself, controlling the urge he still felt to hit the teen.

His own glowing blue eyes stared down into a pair similar to his own. He could see the teen was trembling, and knowing he was the cause of it, he gently reached down and ran his fingers down the side of the redhead's soft cheek before taking the SOLDIER's hand. "Hey, listen, I'm real sorry for how I treated you in the past. I know I've been a jerk, but, maybe you can forgive me. I'm not really a bad person." Genesis' hand tightened around his and he took it as a good sign. "Maybe," he leaned down, drawing closer to the pretty boy, "we can get to know each other a little better?"

"No...don't," Genesis now had tears shinning in his eyes, but his grip on T.J.'s hand tightened even more.

"Would you stop acting like your so fucking afraid of me." T.J. hissed at Genesis, "I already told you I'm not here to hurt you. If I were, I would have already dragged you from this bed and beat your ass by now."

Genesis didn't flinch or pull away from him, or even release his hand. He merely laid there, staring up at SOLDIER Collins, trembling and crying.

The blond ignored the redhead's panic filled face and moved until his face was only inches away from Genesis'. T.J. could feel the teen's warm breath wash over him, the smell of cinnamon and apples laced it heavily, like a fresh baked pie. He moved even closer, and though the redhead was staring at him in abject horror, he felt no compunction to stop. He didn't feel repulsed by the fact he was about to kiss another boy, only excitement mixing with the beginnings of lust.

In the next instant, his lips fell across Genesis', touching and clinging to the trembling flesh. It wasn't like the kiss he'd shared with Amber. This kiss sent shivers down his spine and caused his stomach to fill with butterflies. Saline coated the quivering youth's lips, and though it was a bit salty, it didn't didn't taste unpleasant or detract from the heat was now consuming him. Soon enough, Genesis' mouth was moving in time with his, drawing T.J. in deeper to the sensation. Gently letting one arm slide under the redhead's shoulder's to pull him up, his other hand found rest on Genesis' firm stomach.

This kiss had the older teen coming to terms with the fact that, yes, he was indeed gay, and no longer feeling burdened by it – like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulder's – his tongue slid inside the 'pretty little girl's' mouth, to further explore him. The taste and feel of Genesis was intoxicating.

Collin's realized something was wrong when Rhapsodos didn't respond to this later action. He was sure by the way Genesis was returning his kiss that he was enjoying it. Pulling back, T.J. looked down into the teen's face. Genesis' eyes were still wide, and the Mako was causing them to glow brightly, unnaturally, more unnatural than usual.

"You...didn't like it?" T.J. whispered, unsure if he'd done something wrong. He hadn't hurt the boy, he knew that for a fact, so what was the problem?

Suddenly Genesis bolted upright, knocking T.J. away from him, causing the blond to stumble backwards.

"SEPHIROTH! STOP!" The scream was piercing, echoing throughout the room.

Genesis blinked a few times, instantly waking from the dream, but reality was slow to return. In his nightmare he was with Sephiroth in some distant village, nothing more than a hamlet really, and he was trying to talk his silver-haired boyfriend out of doing something terrible, but Sephiroth was refusing to listen to him. Genesis was begging and pleading, but it seemed that nothing would deter Sephiroth from his mission. At one point during the dream, Sephiroth had stopped long enough to grace Genesis with a sweet, loving kiss. Genesis had returned the affection, hoping it would be enough to stop Sephiroth from doing what he was about to do – whatever that had been. He wasn't sure, the dream wasn't clear on that part. But the kiss hadn't been enough. Genesis' love hadn't been enough to quill Sephiroth's rage, and that had broken the auburn warrior's heart. And then the village was burning, and Genesis was screaming.

The sound of his own voice had woken Genesis from the nightmare. He was now sitting up in his bed, breathing strained, shaking from head to toe. Slowly, the fog of sleep lifted from his mind, and he started to relax, whipping the tears from his eyes.

He felt the another presence in the room before he saw it. Instantly, the SOLDIER reflexes kicked in and he was out of bed and on his feet in a fighting stance. Making out the familiar figure of T.J. did nothing to ease his nerves, and he prepared himself to go on the defensive.

"What are you doing in my room?" Genesis asked when the other SOLDIER continued to stand there, looking shocked.

T.J. didn't know what to say. His mind was reeling. Torn between wanting to pound the boys face in and wanting to apologize, he stated what should have been obvious from the start. "You..talk in your sleep...and sleep with your eyes open?"

"Only when I'm having a nightmare. What's it to ya? And you haven't told me what you are doing here."

"I-I'm...never mind. I'm sorry SOLDIER Rhapsodos...for everything." T.J. decided that apologizing was the best option, especially if he wanted to give it another shot, preferably when Genesis was awake.

Turning around, he almost ran from Genesis' room. He felt like the lowest piece of dirt on Gaia. However, he no longer had to question his sexuality. He was gay. Wouldn't his dad be proud of him now? The thought was laden with sarcasm and he returned to his own room.

Genesis watched the blond leave without trying to stop him. He really didn't care why T.J. had been here, most likely it was either to hurt or harass him, so he was glad to see the SOLDIER 3rd go.

His dream, on the other hand, was still bothering him. It left a hollow, empty feeling inside, and he was actually frightened. Crawling back into bed, Genesis made a mental note to call either Sephiroth or Angeal sometime tomorrow, he needed to hear the comforting voice of someone he loved.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

tbc


	7. Chapter 7: Mother

_Disclaimer: Just adding this to add to my word count. Not mine. _

_Rating: M_

_Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Adult themes and situations. Language, violence, non-graphic rape, and mild incest if you squint. _

_AN: I know I haven't updated in the last month, my excuse: this 5 week unit class for school, was Drawing 101. People, I can't draw. I write, I don't draw. So, anyway, its been taking me days to finish my assignments whereas other classmates it takes only a few hours. I hate it. I hate drawing. So, yeah, that's where I've been this last month...doing homework. _

_AN 2: Nephilim Rising, girl, you are the most awesomest person. Thank you for sacrificing sleep to get this betaed. _

AN3: I was smoking Neph's pot when I wrote this chapter. Ok, that's a lie, Neph doesn't smoke pot; I was smoking my own pot, so if the chapter seems off, just let me know.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Long ago, she doesn't remember when, she gained awareness. She had been an _it_ then, barely formed, and so small she was invisible. Back then, when recollection comes only as hazy white noise, her existence had been singular in purpose. She had no ambition, no directive, no drive. Her one agenda: spread and multiply.

She lacked a sense of self.

Then clarity came. Fuzzy colors took form, becoming shapes, and later objects with dimensions and names. That time when she was alive just to be alive lost meaning as she expanded and expounded into new dimensions. She was no longer a flat, existing only on one plane. She was growing: in size – becoming visible- and gaining in intelligence. She was knowing and learning at the same time.

The creature, virus, monster, goddess now known as Jenova (though she's had many names before) simply stopped being an _it _and became _she_.

Though her purpose was still the same, an overwhelming desire to infect and spread to the masses, she now had a weapon she never possessed before, the ability to plan how to achieve her goal. She could now formulate her attack strategy.

In that long ago time, a time even Gaia wishes to forget, she found the easiest way to spread herself, to not fall back into that nothingness of singular purpose, and it was through the warm, soft forms of a race who called themselves The Cetra. They were active; they kept her from falling dormant.

She spread herself quickly among them, subsuming their knowledge as well as their shape, discarding the parts of them she didn't need – which quite often was their feeble minds. Once she had spread to her second, then her third host, she was living in all of them, directing their actions. Many a mind shattered with her disease, but that was of no concern. On a purely academic level, she understood that these lovely (she had learned what atheistic was) weak, little creatures saw her as a "bad thing," but their morality contradicted her purpose, therefore was of no value.

The Cetra, having two arms, two legs, a head, walked upright and were smooth and shapely; they lost a number of their ranks, not only to madness but also to a metamorphoses. Their bodies became an abomination to Cetra, human, (who though cousins to the Cetra, especially in form, kept their distance when they learned about a sickness killing off the Cetra) and beast alike. They became grotesque, monstrous beasts, both feral and ferocious.

However, the transformation was not strictly due to her. The race that talked to the planet lived in lands rich with Life Stream energy, and that energy effected them on a cellular level, as she herself did. She and the Life Stream Energy did not mix. The outcome was those mutations. She lived inside them too.

With less than a handful of their race left, the Cetra trapped the core part of her – the part that went from _it_ to _she_. Inside a crystal of hardened Life Stream, its emerald facets shimmering in every direction, the molten color seeping into and changing her eyes, they bond her form. Her milky skin, silver hair and fragile frame became translucent, ephemeral and utterly alien in the green glow.

Before they came to imprison her, to rip her out of her home where the vessel to reach the planet still rested, she corrupted a large portion of Life Stream, and used it to hang the Meteor back in the sky.

Later, she would call it crashing to the earth, and the wound it would create would draw survivors together, allowing her, to once again, multiply herself, pass on her contagion.

The tainted Life Stream congealed instantly, and spit out a large black orb which she would need when she was free of her prison. But before she had time to retrieve it, the green came, sealing her within.

At first she had known fear. The fear of not fulfilling her purpose, but those fears were alleviated when she realized that although most of the Cetra had died, killing parts of her as well, some of those that had become monsters, survived. She remained conscious and aware through them. Even now, the massive beast Gorgon – a bull like creature, taller at it's shoulder than two men stacked together, and hide as tough and as dark as black diamond – lay in his layer listening, to the planet. Relaying the information without knowing it.

It was the humans (they have been absent for the last two millenia, now haven't they) who retrieved her. Them and their white coats. Them and their strange equipment, and complex ideas. Them and their endless questions.

She heard them as soon as they liberated her. She could see what they were thinking. She cared little that they put her in a tube to study her. She cared even less when they started to cut and dissect her. She was alive and fully away in every part of her main body, so when they took a piece of her, they took all of her.

Oh, how she loved them, these humans, these distant relatives of the Cetra. She loved them in the way a sentient virus loves. She understood the concept, and could mimic the emotion quiet well. They willingly wanted to help fulfill her agenda. They were useful, and like all viruses who choose a favorite nesting ground, Jenova picked humans.

Then those darling, wonderful beings – they injected themselves with her, unknowing that she was conscious, aware, and in charge of every single cell in her being. They had unwittingly become hosts, and thus she adored them.

These humans, they were stronger, more durable than the Cetra had been. Their genetics adopted her more readily, and though they became tainted with madness, as do all creatures she touches, they didn't easily succumb to negative genetic mutations. Many host's genes would filter out the destructive side effects, annihilating them completely, while retaining the her more beneficial qualities.

All but the insanity! That was the Jenova virus; that was the impurity she corrupted with. Even the strongest willed fell to the chaos in their minds, Only their madness was less pronounced but more profound. It was a quiet whispering constantly breathing a chilled wind against the ear. It was the vivid visions rending and tearing against against the invisible, ethereal barrier of the psyche, causing doubt in reality.

They had taken her arms, and her legs. They had taken her wing, black as the void of space, and soothing to the touch. She couldn't remember where she had gotten the knowledge to create an appendage used for flight since the Cetra didn't have one, but it felt 'right'.

They had gouged out her eyes – she replaced one with a portion of raw magic because she liked to watch them as they poked and prodded her – and cut open her skull. Then they removed her heart and her womb. She was rendered fractured, but remained whole.

She didn't mind them dissecting her; she played dead and listened to their theories. She retained her sensory awareness throughout the processes. She felt it acutely when their needles punctured her skin, and their knifes sawed into bone. She had never been forcibly divided before, and the sensation of pain so intense was not before experienced, so she studied it, committed it to cellular memory, and added a new weapon to her arsenal of spreading insanity.

Among the scientist, there were two, who like herself, were singular in purpose. They were already subscribing to their own forms of madness, letting it shape and control their destiny. These two, the male and female, she loved the most.

The male she cherished, for he would be tender, showing a sort of reverence, when he examined her. He talked to her and truly wanted to learn about her. He recognized power in her, and sought to expand her; his agenda mirrored hers flawlessly. And when he had taken his gleaming, silver scalpel, and with precision that was an art style, extracted her wing, it was unadulterated devotion.

'Professor Hojo', the others called him and he identified with. He had yet to internalize her, but she didn't care, because he worshiped her and readily complied with instructions she would slip into his mind via telepathy.

The female, Lucrecia, she held sacred, and sanctified. The woman was lost to a sickness of her own, obsessed with work and laden with guilt. She was the perfect incubation vessel for Jenova. But then Lucrecia, glory upon her name, in a secret procedure, known only to Hojo and herself, replaced her own womb with Jenova's. The very nature of the Jenova cells allowed for Lucrecia's cells to mutate, and genetically accept the womb as part of her body, thus making it fully functional.

It was another first for her as she had never been born before. The pregnant Cetra had lost their offspring as soon as they were infected, and the abominations were sterile. She was not only to be born once, but three times. However, wanting to try an experiment of her own, to see if these 'birthed' humans would gain her power even if her cells were asleep, she allowed the part of her going with her non-favored scientists, to go dormant.

Her own findings surprised her, and she whispered the results to Hojo. All three of the fetuses were developing madness as their tiny brains grew. They would never perceive a normal world around them. And their bodies had undergone a metamorphoses on a genetic level. They were now physically capable of surpassing the peak human performance, ascending to heights of godlike ability. And where as adding Mako – condensed Life Stream Energy – to the Cetra had caused them to deteriorate into monstrosity's, adding Mako to human's enhanced them. It also acted as an adhesive for her cells to bond with normal cells.

There had been no need for manipulating Hojo's silence; ambition held his tongue. He would not tell Professor Hollander, Professor Hewley, Professor Gast or even Lucrecia, the secrets she imparted on him – her high priest. (Jenova's will be done!) It was best if they remained ignorant of her true nature, and what was happening to her sons, otherwise they may try to impede her actions.

After deciding her dormant cells had bonded with her offspring on a subatomic layer, she was free to turn her primary focus on her active cells, this son would be her perfect host. Between her and Hojo,

using Lucrecia's body, they were creating a flawless carrier; one that embodied her essence. And he would be able to traverse the cosmos, extending her to other words,

Lucrecia began to have visions of the future, and being frightful that the vision would come to pass, and basing her decisions solely on a morality, she tried to harm the fetus, deeming him a monster. Hojo had been able to stop her, and once Sephiroth had been born, Jenova encouraged her sacred one to seek shelter far away where she could hide her broken mind until she had use of her again. Lucrecia consigned.

Jenova had monitored the growths of all her sons into maturity, and though her treasured Hojo injected her into already mature humans, none excelled as her three sons. True, the two who possessed her dormant cells were only slightly less powerful than the one who possessed the active cells, they were none the less precious and valuable.

She had been idle, but not dormant, when a barrier ripped, and a hole was created. No, that wasn't it, that hadn't been what happened. Creation happened in the blink of an eye, and she was suddenly multiplied a million times.

Sephiroth, her son, had matured and enhanced ten-fold in a split second, and her disease was thrust throughout the Life Stream. A part of her divine purpose was fulfilled.

**&%$ CBV $%$**

There were absolutely no alterations to the room that Sephiroth had considered home for the first eight years of his life. The neat arrangement of the room, clean and free from dust, stood as a silent testament to Professor Hojo's compulsion for organization and sterilization. The twin sized bed, now two inches to short for the SOLDIER 2nd Class, witnessed no signs of the previous night's use, having been made upon his waking. Two nightstands, both made of polished cherry-wood, held identical lamps of the same bland, straight-pole design, covered with off-white shades to keep the yellow light from casting too harsh a glare. The vanity, carved from the same wood as the nightstands, housed a brass framed mirror a few inches above it, in front of which Sephiroth now sat, brushing out his tangled silver hair. And while the room's décor had a cozy, inviting effect, the faint smell of abrasive, chemical disinfectants could be detected.

His hand moved the brush automatically through the untangling process, placing each platinum strand in its rightful position, while his head was cluttered with congestion. Up until having this moment of solitude in a familiar, comforting place, Sephiroth had only been going through the motions of everyday routine, while he struggled with having two personalities inside. However, now that he was undisturbed (he was confident Hojo would make sure of it) he had time to question whether or not there really was an older "him" sharing his body. For the last week, he had just sort of accepted "it", and had even gone so far to as to take "its" advice, but now that he was in down time, "it" was a growing mystery.

True that "it" had known things that he didn't know about, like who his mother really was, and that Hojo was his father, and even how best to handle Genesis, but "it" also claimed he was part alien, and that he traveled through time to come back and possess his body. The situation was confusing and sounded like pure fabrication – like something he had made up to give answers to his numerous questions.

Being a person of logic and rational, there was only one conclusion he came to that made sense; his mind was fractured. With all the experimental drugs that Hojo had tested on him, coupled with the fact that he had started killing at such a young age, he had developed a second personality. Usually personalities didn't interact with each other, but his had always been a special existence, so why couldn't his derangement's be special as well? It would explain why the second voice sounded so much like his own, and why he was aware of everything the other did, and not suffer states of fugue so commonly linked to persons with dissociative identity disorder. It would also account for how the other him couldn't use the vast array of power's he claimed to have.

The only problem with this theory was that it didn't explain how he knew Hojo was his father. However, that could be chalked up to him having read a classified document that stated so, and him not wanting it to be true, he altogether dismissed it from his psyche. As for the case of his mother, or mother's – as in plural – a concoction his other self made up to keep his mind at ease. A lie as half-cocked as it sounded, rooted in science fiction, dismissible at best, outright fictitious at worst.

That left the question as to why Hojo agreed with him and didn't sound surprised at what his other self was saying. There was an answer for that as well. The professor knew that one day Sephiroth would split, so he had been preparing for it. The scientist had told the Sephiroth alter-ego exactly what he wanted to know to see how the alter-ego would respond to the information, and what effects it would have on both personalities.

Sephiroth sighed, '_Always an experiment_.'

'_A very good assumption,_' the older part of Sephiroth chimed in, '_and I would have drawn the same conclusion myself if I were your age, and had me live inside me. However, it matters not as to whether I am a separate personality, the fact is that I am a part of you, and I am staying. You will grow into me. Now, why don't we contemplate something else, like the fact that Hojo is our father, and what he admitted last night is monumental._'

Lying aside the brush once his hair was deemed perfect, he let his eyes slip shut. There was no use arguing with himself; the other part of him was right. The older Sephiroth didn't seem to be leaving any time soon, and he was curious as to how overnight he suddenly had a father.

For as long as he could remember, Sephiroth had only thought of Hojo as his caretaker – the person who made sure he had his basic requirements met – but last night, everything had changed. The scientist didn't once deny that he was Sephiroth's biological parent, and had even been open and honest with him. The silver-haired teen did not doubt Hojo's sincerity, because while Hojo may be many things, a liar he was not; that and Sephiroth could tell when people were lying to him. Now that things were different and the scientist had been frank about his past, Sephiroth waited for some great rush of connection, a feeling of bonding to ones parent, to overtake him. That feeling never came.

Sephiroth still felt sense of loyalty which had always been there, and a new sense of gratitude because of the honesty, and there was even an emotion that he couldn't put his finger on, but a feeling that a son should have towards his father didn't exist. There was no profound inkling of kinship or...love. Hojo was still Hojo, though he was no longer that crazy scientist locked away in the labs. And maybe therein lied the difference. Sephiroth didn't have an emotional shift toward towards the man, but a paradigm shift. He didn't view his father as someone to fear anymore, but as someone who held answers he didn't have.

Accepting this new understanding, and feeling a little too compliant with his other half, the young SOLDIER rose from the table and swiftly changed from the hospital gown into his Second Class uniform. He was now intent on finding Hojo so their conversation could continue, and then he wanted to speak to Lazard about getting a mission in or around Junon. It had only been a week, but he was starting to miss his boyfriend.

He stopped when his first boot was laced, leaving the other foot bare. '_Did you just think of Genesis as our boyfriend?_'

'_That's what he is, isn't he?_' He asked with a hint of sarcasm. He was becoming annoyed that the other part of himself was continually interrupting his thought patterns.

'_He is our lover. Boyfriend sounds adolescent and immature._'

'_I would like to remind you that we are only fifteen years old, so when it comes to matters and the terminology of relationships, I believe we are justified to think in terms of how a teenager would think, especially since you are not all that wise when it comes to relationships anyway.' _Sephiroth strapped on his other boot, '_Besides, he can't be our lover yet, considering we have yet to make love to him._'

'_A situation I intend to rectify as soon as possible._'

'_Sex?' _ Sephiroth's younger self was thrust into turmoil over his emotions yet again, '_We are going to have sex with Genesis?_' he was overcome with anxiety, yet talking to Lazard about a mission to Junon had suddenly become top priority.

The older Sephiroth, who had settled in a quiet recess of his mind to contemplate how best to use his father to his fullest advantage, chuckled at the new emotions experienced by his younger self. It was almost incomprehensible to think he really had been that young and excitable at one time.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

'_2.2 billion pounds_' Genesis rattled off mentally, keeping pace with Doughnut ( he preferred it to Cadet Green) not even breaking a sweat, while the fat kid was red-faced and had big tears of water soaking his face. He was panting profusely, while a thick, clear trail of snot oozed down his nose.

_'2.2 billion pounds' is what a cloud weighs; Doughnut was probably close to that,_' he thought. Only Genesis Rhapsodos would compare something so visually stimulating to the obese boy running at his side. Genesis knew it was mean spirited, lately he had been in a foul mood, and his whole squad knew it.

"Your running like the fat kid, Doughnut. Why is that?" Irritation colored Genesis' yelled words.

"Because I'm fat, Sir," the boy spat out a white glob of saliva.

"That's right, because you are fat." He shouted, "What are you gonna do about it, Doughnut?"

"I'm going to loose weight, Sir."

"Cadet Anderson," Genesis called to the rest of the squad slightly ahead of them, "Can Doughnut loose weight?"

A brunette, a boy around eighteen, who was average in almost all ways, answered back, "Sir yes, Sir."

"And why is that, Cadet Mitchell?" Genesis directed his attention to the teen who had asserted himself as the squares second in command.

"Sir, because you said so, Sir," Mitchell returned, his voice strong and assured.

"And that boys, is the way to kiss your superiors ass." The SOLDIER chuckled, and his troops chuckled with him, even Doughnut 'hee-honked' once.

They made it to the climbing wall in the outdoors training field, and his troops started assembling their climbing gear.

"Doughnut, I don't want us to have to pull your ass up that wall this time," Genesis shouted again, "this time you're on your own."

For as much as Genesis rode the boy's ass (not literally) he genuinely liked the kid. Of all the recruits, Cadet Bobby Green gave his best effort, and tried the hardest. The SOLDIER admired his determination. And since sticking to the diet he had been put on – yes, he was allowed to eat – Doughnut had dropped a few pounds and his skin was clearing up.

"Get your asses up that wall, soldiers," he screamed after waiting a few minutes. Genesis was pushing them harder than he would have any other group. Since challenging T.J. to the games, he'd been ruthless about getting his squad in shape. "We don't have all day."

T.J. had been the main source of his irritation. SOLIDER Collins had taken up stalking him, and honestly, the redhead was becoming frightened. Twice this week he had woken up to find T.J. standing in his doorway; Genesis wasn't sure if the older boy meant to harm him or not. He had this look on his face – dark, menacing and confused – that had scared him. He reminded the redhead of a man wrestling with a demon, where he was the demon. He had observed that same look on his father's face when he was battling his addiction; his father had lost the fight. However, T.J. had gone back to his room without doing more than standing, so Genesis had his security code changed, and the mid-night visits stopped. In fact, Genesis wasn't sure that he didn't dream the events – his dreams had been so intense lately that they were starting to merge with reality.

However, the blond SOLDIER had also started doing other things that worried him. T.J. would actively seek out his location, and pay him short visits. He would subtly threaten Genesis with a hushed phrase or blatantly mock him in front of his squad, hoping to embarrass and humiliate him.

It was getting worse by the day. This morning, T.J. had found him in the locker room, caught him off-guard, twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him, chest first, into a locker. For a moment, he had been frozen with fear. Did T.J have a knife? Had he finally come to kill him?

A small voice, hallow and empty, chimed in, _'Is it anymore than a murderer deserves?'_ He ignored this voice; it had been wanting to destroy him since Blakemore.

A hot breath tickled his cheek and T.J.'s lips were against his ear: Goddess help him but his body reacted with a searing heat as well as bone-numbing cold.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm watching you, my pretty little girl," The older teen hissed.

Genesis spun around swinging; he connected with air. T.J. was already retreating for the door. He had blushed hotly, narrowing his eyes, boring a whole into the other SOLDIER's exiting back. Refusing to allow his subordinates to see the shame of a wounded ego he suffered, he held his head high, lips tightening to a horizontal crease dividing his face, and he dared any one of them to utter a single comment on what had happened.

"Genesis," the purr cut through the strained grunts of the squad struggling on the wall.

For a moment, he felt his stomach plunge. He knew it was T.J., certain that his thoughts had conjured him. He didn't want to be afraid of his nemeses, but T.J. seemed unpredictable, and unpredictability was something to be frightened of – a fact he had learned growing up with a drug addicted, deviant father.

Genesis could honestly say that he dearly loved his father. The man was good to him, spent time with him, instructed his education, not only academically but taught him life skills as well; he was not left ignorant to the world. But when Joshton Rhapsodos got his 'fix', he became stupid, and unpredictable.

"_Genesis," his father had pounded on his bedroom door after a night 'out._

_The two year old incident was still fresh in his mind, the paint that coated the picture had not finished drying. _

_Reluctantly, Genesis had granted his father access to his room. The surprise wasn't that Father was high, he was used to how his father behaved after he shot the yellow liquid into his veins. No, the surprise was Joshton Rhapsodos had brought a guest with him; a guest of the female variety that wasn't his mother. _

_Genesis believed his father's intentions were pure, but the adage of intentions, roads and Hell sprang to mind. _

"_Genesis, this is Brook," Mr. Rhapsodos introduced the blond girl now sitting on his bed. She couldn't have been more than a few years older than Genesis._

_The redhead gave the scantly clothed girl a once over and instantly felt revulsion. She was a whore, plain enough, and Genesis didn't like where this was headed. _

"_Brook, why don't you take your clothes off, so my son can see you naked." There was a wicked gleam in the older man's eyes. _

"_I'm sorry Mister Rhapsodos, but you never said I'd be fucken a kid," the prostitute protested, and rose to leave._

"_Brook...darling...angel...sweetheart," Mayor Rhapsodos' tone, laced with his exotic drug, became patronizing and dangerous, "I never told you to fuck him, he enunciated the word 'fuck' in a manner that belittled her street slang, and emphasized her lack of education. "Besides my pet, for what I'm paying you, you will fuck a chocobo if I tell you to."_

_At least this whore tried to have some dignity, Genesis noted, as she, having realized how insulted she had been did stand up. She fired off, her accent thick and common of the lower class, "You can keep your damn money, Mayor. I ain't fucken no chocobos, and I ain't fucken no kids." She stormed to the door. _

_What happened next became an array of violent colors in Genesis' young mind. Red for the slip dress the blond wore that was brutally torn from her body. Red also for the blood that seeped from her nose and lips when his fathers heavy fist connected with her face. Violet, a left of hue from the midnight sky, for the shade the room was bathed in when the girl kicked over his lamp, shattering the bulb to pieces. And finally yellow, a harsh, ugly yellow, a yellow so alien it overshadowed the soft white glow of the dump-apple trees, represented the light of a full, hateful moon. The light spilled through his window at just the right angle for him to witness the horrific event._

_Genesis watched the brutal rape, and did nothing to stop it. Genesis watched until his father spent himself, and most of the drug wore off. And then, he helped his father carry the young, battered girl to the car. He rode with his father to deposit Brook in some run down, back alley in the seedier part of town (Mr. Rhapsodos threw a handful of gil notes on her naked form before they left)._

_The rest of the night, Genesis, lay on his bed – the same bed that was now filthy with atrocity – and cradled his father in his arms, as if he were the adult comforting a weeping child. _

_His stomach was twisted in painful knots – his dinner, eaten hours ago, wanted to come back up – but still he held his father. The older man's sobs were pitiful and terrifying, adding to Genesis confusion, but he kept his arms securely around his father's waist, and after a while, he wasn't sure who was clinging to who. He didn't cry; he couldn't. This was one of those moment when reality shattered into pure chaos and all he could do was stare a the fractured pieces. _

_His eyes trained on his pillow, because he dared not look elsewhere. A dark red blotch stained the pristine white. Her blood. _

"_Mother, you wont tell your mother," Genesis was shaken by the shoulders out of his numbness._

_It took a long time for him to meet his father's glaze, and when he did, he saw something wild and crazed in Joshton Rhapsodos' muddy brown iris' . Madness from the drugs...maybe?_

"_I wont," Genesis replied, sounding much more clam than a kid his age should. _

_And he wouldn't. Nothing on Gaia or in Minerva's realm could make him break his mother's heart. Certainly not this vile, repulsive sin, in which he shared. He would not pollute her untarnished goodness with a tale of such wickedness. _

_Then his father was kissing him, over and over again, wet, tear-soaked lips rained down kisses on all part of his face, even touching his lips a few times, lingering just a little too long. _

_They were kisses of gratitude. Genesis returned them with a need of his own; the need to feel safe and secure again. _

_In his unconditional love for his father, Genesis justified his father's actions. Brook – he would never forget her – deserved it. If she had only done as Father asked. It was her fault Father was in the condition he was in. _

_By the time the sun split the firmament from the oceans, he believed his own lie. _

_A piece of Genesis' soul died that night. A part of him was torn apart in a fit of violence, sent shrieking to the bowls of the Gray Waists; a innocent, pure, good part. _

T.J. seemed like he was _that_ kind of unpredictable.

Slowly, as if buying time to learn how to will the speaker of his name away, he turned his head, fully expecting to come face to face with his enemy.

A deluge of relief showered him. Genesis' posture stiffened, a smile danced at the corners of his mouth, though it was denied permission to form, and his hand went to his forehead in salute.

"SOLDIER 2nd Class, Sephiroth, Sir," it was difficult to keep his voice professional, especially since he was overcome with the sudden urge to throw his arms around his boyfriend's neck, and kiss him until he couldn't see straight, but he managed.

"At ease, Genesis," Sephiroth dismissed with formalities, though they were greatly appreciated. He stepped in closer, so that he and Genesis were standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder. That way, if either moved in the slightest way, they would 'accidentally' brush against the other.

"What are you doing here, Seph?" The redhead made sure he moved slightly, needing to feel Sephiroth – if only briefly.

"I am on a mission," came the cold, sterile reply.

"Oh," Genesis sounded disappointed. His auburn brows furrowed, and something akin to a pout, shaped his mouth.

A smirk formed on Sephiroth's lips; he truly loved teasing him and the effect he had on his young lover. "And I came to visit you."

"Oh," the redheaded SOLDIER brightened. He smiled and didn't try to hide it. "I'm glad you came."

"I am as well. Though getting Lazard to get me a mission here was a pain. However, next time, I guarantee he will think twice about taking his time in getting me a mission I request. "

"Why? What did you do, Sephiroth?"

"Not much, I merely pestered him."

"How?" Sephiroth was usually so formal; picturing him pestering anyone, had Genesis laughing even before his companion started his story.

"By going into his office every day after lunch, and reading each and every cadet file to him, then asking for his opinion on each one. By the duties mandated in his official title, he is required to give an honest, unbiased opinion when a SOLDIER brings a cadet to his attention. I just happened to bring them all to his attention. When I left this morning, he was so behind in paperwork, that he locked his office and took his work home for the day."

Genesis face dropped into his hand and he laughed. "I bet he loves you right now."

"Probably not, but it doesn't matter. I missed you and wanted to visit."

"I missed you too, Seph."

Before they became overly sentimental, which made the silver SOLDIER physically ill, he shifted topics. Pointing up at the wall, he innocently asked, "Is that your squad?"

Sighing, Genesis nodded, "Yeah. I got stuck with a litter of runts."

"I see."

"I've been working on them, trying to train them as soldiers, but...Seph, they're losers, and I don't think any of them will stick after this month is over."

"Do not doubt your own abilities, Gen. If anyone can shape these cadets into SOLDIERs, its you. I have faith in you." Sephiroth knew that was the right thing to say.

A twinkle sparked in the redhead's eyes, he could feel it. To have his idol give him such praise, sent his heart aflutter, his cheeks blushed, and swelled his pride. "You really think so?"

"I do." Sephiroth agreed in his overtly calm demeanor.

Nodding, all threads of self doubt cut, the Third Class SOLDIER yelled up the wall, faith in himself restored, "Ebert! What are you doing up there, masturbating? Shit, you've fallen behind Doughnut, and he's the fat kid. Doughnut! Keep moving, your doing fine. Hell, you're jiggling faster than Ebert is climbing. For Goddess-fuck-sakes, if you were being fired at, the whole lot of you would be dead." He barked out a few more 'encouragements,' mostly showing off to his superior, then leaned in toward Sephiroth.

"You step into character very well, Genesis."

"Well, admittedly, I don't have that look of I-will-kill-you-if-you-mess-up, that you have. So I improvise."

"Genesis, will you have sex with me?"

On the entire flight to Junon, Sephiroth had struggled with how to ask that question, and the older, wiser him wasn't stepping in to help. He had finally concluded that the best strategy to use was misdirection. He would slip the question in to a normal topic of conversation, thereby catching his target unawares, giving him the advantage. It was also to his benefit that he was on home field. He knew Junon as well as he knew Midgar.

Genesis had been about to say something, when Sephiroth's question reached his ears. A small noise escaped his lips in a rush of air. He was then quiet for a long time.

He didn't know how to answer that. The butterflies in his stomach awakened. Of course he was curious about sex, and did want to do it with Sephiroth, but this felt wrong. It wasn't done like this. His knowledge of sex may be limited, but he was pretty sure you didn't ask someone first, like setting up a date. There was a lot of kissing and rubbing and it progressed from there.

A little voice suddenly clicked in his head and reminded him that it was Sephiroth, and if he really did love him, he'd better start getting used to the unconventional.

Relaxing a bit, gathering his courage, he whispered, "Yes, Sephiroth, I will have sex with you."

Feeling as if he'd just won a great victory, Sephiroth released the breath he'd been subconsciously since asking the question. He had never once figured into his battle plan that Genesis might say no. But when his lover had gone silent, suddenly that 'no' became a real possibility. The first stinging claws of embarrassment needled at his chest.

'_What if Genesis does say "no"...how to I react then? Do I retreat without saying another word, passing off my shame as total nonchalance? Do I try to make an apology? Is he upset with me? Have I done something wrong?_'

The "yes" ceased his inner monologue, and an emotion that he was becoming familiar with when around Genesis engulfed him: he felt happy.

"I'll visit you in your quarters when I return."

Sex was not to come that night.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Sephiroth smoothed out his trench coat, before knocking on the door of an apartment on residential level 8. He finally brought his hand to the barrier, announcing his presence.

He was dreading this mission, though he'd never undertaken one of its kind before. He'd heard other talk about it, and they say its the single hardest mission to ever be on. However, he knew he wasn't like the others; he had the mental fortitude not to crack.

With the patience of death (ha-ha real funny analogy) he waited for someone to answer.

"Yes?" a petite brunet, her hair in thick, tight ringlets framing her face, answered the door. The woman was somewhere in her early thirties, dark-skinned and exotic dress – somewhere from the southern Mideel area, he ventured. There was a boy child of about three on her hip.

Sephiroth nodded his head, "Are you Mrs. Giordano?"

He needn't have to go any further. With his as widely recognized as it was, the woman only had to put two and two together to figure out what Shin-Ra was doing here. Dominic, her oldest son, had left home just six months ago to join the military. He was only fifteen.

Sephiroth watched as she grabbed her door frame for support. He was worried she might drop her child.

"Ma'am," he began, his voice lacking emotion, "I am regretful to inform you, that in the line of duty, your son, Dominic Omar Giordano was killed serving his country. On behalf of Shin-Ra Electric Company, and myself, you have our deepest condolences." He had memorized the speech by heart while in the elevator on his way to this level. "I am proud to say..."

A scream tore through the afternoon heat; the woman's scream, and Sephiroth was extending his arms. She and the child were falling backwards. He caught her and carried her into her quarters. He laid her on a dingy, ripped couch, and dislodged the boy from her side.

She had started babbling, her sobs heavy and pitiful, "Bring my boy back. Too young. Didn't want him to go. Please, God, bring him back."

Sephiroth stayed with her until she had regained a semblance of control over herself. He wasn't sure why he stayed; he had no words of comfort. Maybe he realized the toddler couldn't be left alone with his mother in her current condition, or maybe...

Sitting in an armchair that was sister to the couch, and in the same sorry state, he thought of Lucrecia. Did she cry for him before starting to hate him? Did she shed a single tear when she left him to Hojo? Had she thought about him since? When his birthdays came, did she ever try to imagine what it would have been like if she had stayed? What he would have been like?

He shouldn't care, but he did. In this woman's sobs, he heard the echo lost possibility. it was a cold, hollow sound, like ice cracking on a frozen lake. He also heard his own grief. Oh, he had Mother, but sometimes, just sometimes, he wished he had a human mother, (he was part human, after all).

The reason for him wanting one didn't matter, he was selfish, and right now, he wanted one.

Sephiroth left without a word once Mrs. Giordano sobs had turned to sniffles. He had left a military stamped letter of condolences and a flag on her coffee table, and walked out the door.

Later that night, tucked into Genesis' bed, wrapped in his arms – the only place he felt warm and secure right now – Sephiroth asked in a voice way too old for him, "Genesis, do you think she wept?"

"Do I think who wept, Seph?" Genesis was twirling a silky strand of silver between his fingers.

"My mother. Do you think she wept when she found out I died?"


	8. Chapter 8: Pretty Little Liar

_Disclaimer: Character and world property of Square Enix_

_Pairing: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Ratings: M_

_Warnings: Some language, non-graphic sex, drama_

_A/N 1 – Thank you ever so much to the wonderful and oh-so-talented Nephilim Rising. You are the best. You helped pull me through my writers block, and kept on my ass to get this chapter finished. **Much Love**_

_A/N 2 – I know I haven't updated since before Christmas, but the holidays brought on writers block and the entire month of January was a nightmare for schoolwork. However, to everyone who reviewed last chapter, especially those who reviewed twice, you are awesome and I love you. And for anyone who's still following this story, you guys are da bomb._

**&%$ CBV $%&**

The alien world of the subconscious refused Sephiroth admittance that night. His thoughts were too scattered to allow him respite in the realm of dreams.

_Mother_.

The woman falling hysterically, only to be caught in his strong embrace, when he told her that her son was deceased, was set on repeat in his head. Genuine in her grief, her suffering became internalized inside Sephiroth's soul, and for an instant that time ignored, the part of Sephiroth that was still human wished she were his mother. In her first moments of despair, when the loss of her child withered her heart, but had yet to be recognized by her head, she was Lucrecia, woefully singing a song of sorrow, having been made hollow by the ripping away of the sacred life she had brought into this world. In her unparalleled anguish, understood only by others who had similarly had a child stolen cruelly from them, Sephiroth loved her.

But it was not the mocha-skinned, dark-haired woman he actually loved; she was merely a presence, the embodiment of a fantasy that he had cherished since he could first crawl – he loved the idea of her, and so he mourned with her...for her. He did not really love Mother, for he had never known what the love of Mother was like. Even the doe-eyed, sharp witted, strong spoken woman who he had spent hours gazing upon when he was in the Life Stream did not have the privilege of his affection.

The one christened Lucrecia, Hojo's wife, the one who's womb he was conceived in; she should have wept for him when she found out he died. It was her face that should have been stained with saline. Yet, he somehow doubted she mourned him. He could not envision her eyes glistening with tears, nor her lips trembling his name when she found out he had exited this world the first time. Sephiroth had decided long ago that she was better left a pretty puppet forever held in suspended animation in her prison of Mako.

_Mother._

Jenova. An alien. A virus. She had given herself to him, had become one with him – had infused him with power and created him an infectious disease. Jenova was mother...the mother who had no want or need of his love. She, who's only goal was to spread, loved him in her singular purposed way, but required no adoration in return. And he, after learning the truth about her, came to love her.

She did not grieve his passing, but encouraged it.

Then they were together. Then they were whole. Then there was only him.

The part of him that was not alien, not virus, the part that was human and weak, the frail half that he refused to rid himself of because it fueled his drive and ambition, ached for a mother to cry over his death. Selfish, it was, but still...mingled with other emotions such as pride and determination, it showed its deceptive face in the wee hours of the morning. So, since sleep was not written in his future any time soon, he allowed himself to daydream. The mocha-skinned woman morphed into his mother, and it was him she was weeping and wailing for.

The ache in his chest subsided just as the sun, in all its glory, painted the skies over Junon pink and orange and purple and blue.

**&%$ CBC $%&**

Genesis was trapped in a dream that refused to slacken its hold. He had to be. There was no other explanation, nothing else made sense. Besides, as of late, his nighttime journey into the lands beyond had been so vivid, that believing this was a dream was only natural.

He longed to reach out and touch his lover's face, just to assure himself that the alabaster skin wasn't marble. His fingers begged to tell his brain that the barely parted lips were soft, not carved from stone. Inside his head, he was screaming something was wrong, but the emerald eyes, shining with too much Mako, glaring into his own, held him captive, daring him to move.

Genesis couldn't, wouldn't dare, look away; he was transfixed. His lungs refused to work and his stomach had fallen through the floor. It was somewhere within the entire span of eternity that he realized what was wrong, and his first instinct was to scream. Since breath was not his to be had at the moment, no sound was forthcoming. This next feeling was morbid curiosity. He gasped and air rushed in.

"Sephiroth?" The name was barely a spoken whisper.

Sephiroth had...had...aged. Overnight. No, not overnight. In the span of only a few short hours, he had gone from a teen Genesis' age, to a man whose eyes were battle hardened and whose laugh lines pulled up the corners of his mouth ever so slightly.

"Seph," Genesis was truly becoming afraid, "what happened?"

A foreign weight suddenly pinned him on his back to the bed. Genesis was used to Sephiroth being bigger than him, but this man was a monster, and the redhead was being crushed.

"Tell me, Rhapsodos, did you mourn when you found out I was dead, or did you chuckle with glee...or possibly, did you quote Loveless and move on?"

More confused than ever, Genesis shook his head. Last night his boyfriend had asked a similar question, only about his mother. Genesis didn't know what he was talking about then, and he didn't know what he was talking about now.

"Seph, I..."

He didn't get the chance to finish; Sephiroth's mouth was on his, crushing, bruising, hurting.

The silver-haired man broke off the kiss when Genesis started yelping.

"I know you, Genesis. I know how you are and what you are capable of doing. Twice your lying lips spoke words I believed, and twice you killed me. The first time, I died a little on the inside, the next, I was sent into the Life Stream. Now tell me, did you bother crying?"

Drawing on the reservoir of courage that had first sated his fears about leaving Banora and join SOLDIER, that same wellspring of indomitable fortitude that allowed him to stand up to his nemesis, Genesis locked his gaze with Sephiroth's. In those glimmering, green pools of wisdom, knowing far more than any man should, Genesis found the answer Sephiroth was seeking.

Somehow, in a way Genesis could not comprehend, Sephiroth – this older, scary version of him – had moved backwards in time, and was asking for justification for something Genesis had yet to do. How he knew this older version of Sephiroth was from someplace distant was only explainable by blaming this dream he was trapped in. The redhead had long ago accepted that his dream self held answers that his waking self did not possess and in times such as these, his own insight surpassed that of any mere mortal.

"Yes," he whispered, his breath caressed Sephiroth's face, "Yes, I wept." He was imagining what it would be like if his lover did die on him. "I mourned, my love, and my heart, made of fragile glass shattered when it was thrown against the stone surface of death."

Sephiroth lifted the upper half of Genesis' body and peeled the nightshirt away. "A beautiful metaphor, woven by beautiful lips, obfuscating a tongue of venom."

Already shirtless, Sephiroth pressed his chest to Genesis, and the redhead savored the heat they were creating. Their mouths clashed again, and this time Genesis parted his lips, and Sephiroth slipped his tongue inside.

Drawing away, Sephiroth glared down at Genesis again, "I hold you, my pretty little liar, responsible for my demise."

Genesis' fingers trailed up his lover's sides lightly, mingling with silken, silver strands and dampening flesh, "responsibility accepted, though not intended." It was his turn to raise a bit and initiate the kiss, which Sephiroth responded to with passion. When they parted to take in oxygen, Genesis elaborated, "My soul bore the scars of your downfall, my mind fractured from the pain. You ask if I cried, so I tell you again, Yes, I cried. I cried and I bled for you."

At one point, during Genesis' somber speech, Sephiroth had managed to remove both his and his lover's pants, and they lay naked together, wet skin plastered to wet skin, hardness throbbing against hardness.

Genesis moaned as the larger organ stroked his, and Sephiroth drank down the sound, consuming the lust that was building in the smaller youth. The older man rotated his hips ever so slightly, causing a euphoric friction, and the redhead whimpered in response.

"Beg forgiveness for your transgressions, my pretty little liar." Sephiroth stroked Genesis' cheek and traced his lips with his thumb, even as he positioned himself to claim his lover's virginity. "Give yourself to me as penance. Deliver unto me your damaged soul so that I may make you whole again."

Genesis wrapped his arms around Sephiroth's neck and his legs around Sephiroth's hips. "Forgive me for my sins, my love, for it was by word and deed that I wronged you and laid you low." These words tumbled from his lips, though he didn't know what he was asking forgiveness for; it just felt right. "I give myself to you, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, to pay the heavy cost of my trespasses."

It took every ounce of resolve Genesis had to keep from screaming when Sephiroth penetrated him for the first time. White flashed behind his closed eyes and a burning torment raced straight up his spine, extending from there to all other parts of his trembling frame. He hadn't realized tears had sprung up in his eyes until he felt the warm touch of his lover's lips kissing them away.

"Was this the pain you experienced before," Sephiroth was completely still on top of him, his voice low, husky, laden with lust. "My...love," Genesis could detect the hint of sarcasm, "this too shall pass."

"Seph...hurts." Genesis dared not move for fear of bringing another bout of agony.

"Shhhh," the silver-haired warrior soothed, "soon the pain will end and you will start to feel pleasure."

Genesis' eyes fluttered open, and the dream was dispelled. He was still in his lovers arms, and Sephiroth was still buried deep within, but that future Sephiroth, who was so full of malice, was nowhere to be found. In his place was the Sephiroth who Genesis hadn't wronged, the teenager whose eyes were too large and shocking when first beheld.

Deciding that this Sephiroth was the one he loved and trusted, the red SOLDIER released the breath he'd been holding and willed his body to relax. True to Sephiroth's words, the pain subsided and using a kiss to signal when it was alright to continue, the two began to move in harmony. Their bodies instinctively knew the rhythms and patterns of the other, and they were able to carry each other to heights they'd never before experienced.

Throughout the entirety of the event, their lips stayed connected, and not only were they physically completing each other, but their souls were bonding as well, making a promise through their intimacy never to be separated or severed from the other.

As the intensity grew and both ascended the spiral toward climax, Genesis spoke into his lover's mouth. "I love you, Sephiroth." Sephiroth inhaled the words and transformed them into part of his being. Not expecting the sentiment to be returned in a vocalized manner, the redhead was launched over the edge into the waiting arms of orgasm when the silver SOLDIER whispered, "I love you too, Genesis." Sephiroth's climax followed in the wake of Genesis', and the red warrior was suddenly filled with a warm liquid, not unpleasant in sensation.

Long after the physical act had ended, the two were still entwined, neither ready to relinquish their unity, neither wanting to become solitary at the moment. However, they both knew they couldn't meld into one being, as much as they would have liked to in those moments, and so it was Genesis, with cryptic words, who disconnected their link.

"Before we made love, and up until after you entered me, I was dreaming of you," Genesis slid his fingers through his lover's mane of beautiful silver hair. "an older you, from a far off place, and he is vindictive towards me. That you scares me, because I think he wants to hurt me. At least he does in my dreams."

What Genesis said brought both Sephiroth's to attention. He eased himself out of his lover and sat back on his knees. "You dreamed this?"

_'We want to hurt Genesis? Why do we want to hurt Genesis?'_

_'I don't want to hurt him...not anymore...I don't think. I used to blame him...for telling me the truth though at the time, I thought he was trying to hurt me and lied.' _

_'You need to stop thinking that, because we are not going to hurt Genesis.' _

_'I just said I don't want to hurt him anymore.'_

_'Then what is he talking about?'_

_'I don't know.' _

Sitting up and drawing his knees to his chest, Genesis gazed for a long moment into his lover's eyes, debating on whether he should tell Sephiroth about how vivid and sometime horrific his dreams had become in the last few weeks, starting even before he'd murdered Sergeant Blakemore. Did he trust Sephiroth enough...he put a halt on the question, and asked himself another instead, '_Didn't I just swear myself to him, to pay for...for something I haven't done yet? It was a dream, but it was so very real, and this Sephiroth will one day be that Sephiroth, so shouldn't I start trusting him? I mean, I did just give him my virginity, how much more trust can I have in someone?' _

Sighing deeply, Genesis decided to explain, "Do you remember the night I woke up in your room, the night I cast a fireball at your lock?"

Sephiroth switched positions to sit on his ass and crossed his arms, "Quite clearly. Please continue."

"Well, that's the night the dreams started to become really intense. I was dreaming that a dragon, who could split the sky open and make it rain blood and fire, had come to get you. And the walls started melting, and I had to find you and save you."

Able to instantly decipher the symbolic meanings behind the dream, Sephiroth visibly paled. He was the dragon, and when he brought down meteor, he had caused it to split the sky and rain fire, and blood if one were to count up all the dead in Midgar when Meteorfall happened. And the melting of the walls of the Shin-Ra building, he had brought down Shin-Ra. He was the dragon and he _had_ come that night to 'get' him. Genesis had known but didn't understand.

Sephiroth reserved making any speculations until his redheaded lover finished talking.

"Then about a week ago, I had another really fervent dream. Seph, they seem so real at the time," Genesis broke his own thoughts to plead his case. Sephiroth merely nodded. "Anyway, we were in this small town, Gaia knows where, and you were upset. I mean, really, really upset, like you were in my dream earlier, and so, using magic, you set the whole town on fire, and then you started killing the towns people, and I didn't understand why. I begged and begged you to stop, but you ignored me."

"Nibelheim," Sephiroth mummered, but not low enough that Genesis' Mako enhanced hearing didn't pick it up.

"What?"

"Nothing...yet, Genesis." Sephiroth was pondering how his lover could possibly have known about the Nibelheim incident. Was the boy able to dream about Sephiroth's past, or was it a future that was set in stone that he was unable to change? He refused to believe that. "Tell me about your dream this morning."

"I was more vivid than the others. You know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you? Well, that feeling was what woke me up. When I opened my eyes, you were staring at me. It took me a moment to realize that you wasn't you, but my dream self knew it was you...only older. You asked me if I mourned your death? You said something like that last night too, Seph, but I know I wasn't dreaming then."

The silver SOLDEIR was at a loss for words. He had hoped to be more careful around Genesis, because his lover could be too astute at times, but now he saw that he wasn't going to be able to hide the truth from the redhead for much longer. The auburn teen had a knack for asking the right questions and deducing the only logical explanations. He could clearly imagine Genesis putting all this information together, but since no logical deduction would be forthcoming, he would draw his own conclusion. He wouldn't know there were two Sephiroth's in one body and would start doing things to sabotage Sephiroth now, in hope he would knock the 'future' Sephiroth off his present course. Genesis could not be allowed to do that.

That path of thinking led to another trail.

_'Was I the one with Genesis this morning?' _

_'Were you? Because I clearly remember starting our intimacy this morning the way I am now.'_

_'No, I couldn't have been with Genesis. Besides, I'm not even sure we are capable of using mother's power to shape-shift into an adult version of me in the body we are currently in.' _

_'Are you sure?'_

_'…'_

_'Are you sure?'_

_'...No' _

_'Then how do you know we weren't with him.'_

_'Might I reminded you, that just because I am sharing this body with you, I am still part of you, and never before have we suffered a lapse in memory. However, I believe I am beginning to understand what is going on.'_

_'Are you going to share your sudden epiphany?'_

_'Of course, you will have to explain it to him.'_

"Seph...did you hear what I said?"

"I apologize, Genesis, what was the last thing you said?"

"I said, he...you told me to beg forgiveness for my transgressions. And I did. I haven't even done anything wrong, but you made me feel like I had done something terrible, so I asked for forgiveness and you..." Genesis stopped and hung his head in shame, "you said I could buy your forgiveness with my body."

Sephiroth raised one silver eyebrow, "This future me sounds like a reasonable man, with excellent taste."

Genesis rolled his eyes, "I would be inclined to agree, Sephiroth, but," The redhead paused to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Seph, I already said that you seemed really, really angry at me, and it felt like you were asking me to give you permission to hurt me, bad, during sex. Gaia save me Seph, but I gave you that permission. It was like I sold my soul to you, and...I wanted to. Seph, I know you wanted to hurt me, but it was strange because even though I knew you wanted to, you didn't. It seemed like you were asking my permission for everything you did to me. And I gave it; I gave you absolute power over me, yet you still didn't hurt me. Well, you did a little when you took my virginity, but that woke me up and you were you again. I mean, this you."

Seeing the adverse affect the 'dream' had on his lover, Sephiroth drew up beside him and pulled Genesis into his arms. The red SOLDIER's words confirmed one thing he had suspected long ago. He was incapable of physically bringing harm to the object of his obsession. He had started to become suspect when they had run into each other again in the #5 reactor after Genesis had gone AWOL in Wutai. Sephiroth had been so angry and so hurt that at the time, he wanted to make Genesis suffer. Once the two had been left alone by Hollander and Zachery Fair, Genesis had opened their more private, more intimate meeting with lines that are forever etched into his memory.

"There is no hate, only joy,

for you are beloved of the goddess.

Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds."

The rest of the act that Genesis quoted that day was trivial, and since then, Sephiroth has heard many interpretations of the act, but even back then, he knew exactly how to interpret it coming from Genesis' lips.

'Sephiroth, I don't hate you. You've only ever sought to make me happy.

I love you.

I know, but cannot tell, that you are the key to my salvation.'

It dawned on the silver warrior that day, that he couldn't bring himself to raise a hand against his lover. Oh, he had wounded him gravely with words, but he was entitled to vent his rage at Genesis for abandoning him. However, never again did the thought of causing the redhead bodily harm cross his mind. In fact, it had become tantamount to hurting himself.

While the teenage version of him was absorbing these new glimpse and piecing together all this new information about his lover, the older version was hammering out his understanding of what was happening to Genesis. In a moment of deep clarity, Sephiroth finally fit it together. Genesis was blessed/damned to life in two realities, both constructed of the same environments and same events, yet in one world, he witnessed and experienced reality as everyone else, in the other, he experienced the truth through symbols and hidden meanings. Sephiroth ached for him because he knew his lover would never be able to reconcile the two worlds. What a backhanded gift from Mother!

It also now made sense why soon Genesis would gain an obsession with Loveless. On one hand, in his dream world (Sephiroth now deemed them visions) he comprehended and experienced it, but in his waking world he didn't fully grasp the meaning. That's how he knew the Gift of the Goddess was real, and his urgency to obtain it remained strong.

Now that Sephiroth had figured it out, he felt he knew and understood Genesis better than ever. He felt his love for the teenager he held in his arms deepen and grow.

Turning his head slightly, Sephiroth brushed the redhead's lips with his own, "Genesis, on this day I vow I shall do everything in my power to never to bring harm to you."

Genesis watched a lifetime of thoughts flash through Sephiroth's eyes, though his face remained as if chiseled from marble. His silver-haired lover was as interested in his dreams as he was, if not more. The jealousy came when he saw awareness take root. It was unfair; they were his dreams and Sephiroth suddenly understood them better than he did? Was nothing of his sacred anymore? Was there anything he possessed, be it skill, knowledge, or talent, that the Second Class SOLDIER did not? Frustration coursed through him. He berated himself for having such silly emotions so soon after the first time he made love, but the green head of jealousy remained.

"I wanna know, Sephiroth. I wanna know what you know, and I wanna know now."

"That is a very tall order Genesis, and I do not think you have enough time for me to teach you all I know." Sephiroth tried to make light of the situation, hoping to buy his teen self enough time to figure out how exactly to explain to the redhead the information he'd gleaned.

Pushing himself out of Sephiroth's arms, Genesis sneered. "You know what I mean, so tell me."

"Yes," the silver SOLDIER wholeheartedly agreed, "It is only fair and because I love you that I will explain.

Genesis nodded and waited.

Sephiroth opened his mouth and was about to speak when the alarm bells rang, signifying that instructors and cadets only had another ten minutes before they had to meet in the indoor training facility.

Sighing, Genesis rose. "Promise me, promise me right now, that when we next get the chance, you will tell me everything."

"I promise," Sephiroth remarked solemnly.

"Damn," Genesis gathered his uniform, "I only have ten minutes. That's not enough time for a shower, and Seph...I'm leaking."

Sephiroth's eyes widened, shocked at first by the out-of-the-blue announcement Genesis had just made, then he threw his head back and laughed.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Angeal sat in a small dinner just off Loveless avenue, trying to compose a letter to his mother. Today should have been a day of celebration and merriment, instead, the dark-haired teen now wearing the purple uniform of a Second Class, felt depressed, alone. Genesis and Sephiroth, or at least one of the two, should be here sharing this day with him, but both were in Junon.

Pushing away the thoughts of his friends and how much he missed them right now, he finally put words to paper.

_Hi Mom, _

_I know its been too long since my last letter, but Shin-Ra has been keeping all their SOLDIERs busy. I tried to find the time to write, but for awhile it seemed like I never had a break between missions. I truly am sorry, and from now on, I will make the time to write you, even if it's just some scribble on paper telling you that I'm alright. _

_I've got wonderful news. I was promoted to Second Class today. After changing into my new uniform, the first thing I did was started this letter to you, so I could share my good news. You were right, Mom, as long as I hold on to my dreams and honor I can achieve anything. _

_Now that I am Second Class, I will get my own apartment, and hopefully I will be able to start a window garden. I still wont have a kitchen, so I wont be cooking, but I have been collecting recipes from all the places I've been and I will send copies to you. _

_In other news, Genesis' is working really hard on his promotion, but I'm worried about him. He's still a lot smaller than the other boys, and while I stick up for him when the bigger guys pick on him, I'm not always around. I know he will hit a growth spurt soon, but it can't come quick enough for me. _

_Love Always,_

_Your son_

_Angeal_

_P.S. Enclosed is the gil from my last paycheck. I hope it will be enough until I get paid again. _

Giving the letter a once over and determining it was as good as he could make it considering the mood he was in, he folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket.

"Hi SOLDIER," a cheerful voice greeted him. He raised his eyes, his reverie broken by a blond girl holding a notepad and pen. "What can I get you this afternoon?"

Not one who believed in love at first sight, Angeal's belief system changed in that instant. The girl (Amber, her name tag says Amber) was beautiful. Her hair was the color of spun gold, her eyes as clear and blue as a midsummer Banorian sky, her lips were as pink as...Dear Gaia, even in his head that sounded cheesy.

"Um...um..." Yes, he wanted something to drink. An apple juice, and maybe a slice of cheese cake, "and I think that will be all."

The waitress tilted her head and laughed, and to Angeal, it was the sound of a twinkling little bell. "Sweetie, you haven't ordered anything."

"Oh,"his heart thundered in his chest. He had never felt like such a loser, "Apple juice. Cheese cake," the order came out mechanically.

"Okay, an apple juice and a slice of cheese cake, will that be all?"

"Phone number."

Amber, (Angeal loved that name) giggled again.

He blushed and his face turned redder than Genesis hair; he hid it in his hands, "and could you please bring me a bolder? One big enough to crawl under."

"I like you, you're funny," the blond said and held out her hand. "I'm Amber, it's nice to meet you."

Angeal took her dainty hand. "Amber. Name tag. Angeal"

"I'll be back with your order." Still laughing, Amber walked away.

If Minerva cared one whit about him, She would split the sky and strike him dead right there. He was a putz, and somewhere in between "what can I get for you, and 'um', he had forgotten most of his vocabulary. How could he have made such an idiot of himself? He'd talked to pretty girls before; back in Banora he was considered quiet the ladies man. So why was this one girl, cute and pretty and smart and wonderful, having such an effect on him?

Amber returned after a few minutes (five hours because that's how long Angeal would have sworn he waited to see her smile at him again) with his cheesecake and juice. "Here you are SOLDIER boy," she put his items in front of him, then slipped a note beside the desert. "I have cheer leading after I am done here, but I should be home by nine. If you're not busy, give me a call."

"I know how to use a phone," Angeal accreted his knowledge.

Really laughing now, the blond waitress put her palm over her face and shook her head. "I'm glad..." she laughed so hard tears sprang up in her eyes, "that's a really useful skill to have."

The crystalline music of her merriment followed her as she moved away from his table; Angeal took a huge drink of his juice to wash his foot down with. When he was sure she was gone, he retrieved the letter to his mom from his pocket.

_P.S.S. I'm in love_.

Angeal went directly back to the Shin-Ra building after he left the dinner. He was no longer feeling lonely and depressed, but he still couldn't wait for Sephiroth and Genesis to return, so he could tell them his good news.

As if his day couldn't get any better, no sooner was he in the elevator, than his phone rang. Lazard called him up to his office, and reassigned him to his own apartment. The move from the apartment he had shared with Genesis was simple. Two uniforms, ten pairs of soaks, ten changes of boxers, a ribbon, his ipod and Buster, that was everything he owned.

Once settled in – meaning he put his clothes away in drawers – Angeal had nothing left to do but wait until nine.

He had taken the time to text Sephiroth and Genesis, which he hadn't done earlier because he was so glum – about his promotion and about Amber.

He was proud of himself, he typed to his friends, and he even liked the color, but most of all he liked the pay raise. Then he told them about Amber. He text about how beautiful she was, and the way she made him laugh, the told them how smart she was, and how everything that she talked about was so witty. He told them that he was in love.

Genesis must have been out, because Sephiroth was the only one to reply. His text read,

'Congratulations, SOLDIER Second Class Angeal Hewley, with strong resolve, hard work, dedication and determination, you have served your country honorably and fought bravely against her enemies. You are deserving of your promotion to the rank of Second Class, may you wear your uniform with pride.'

There was a smiley after the text, and Angeal couldn't stop himself from chuckling. Sephiroth didn't joke around much, but when he did, it always brought a smile to Angeal's lips.

The next text was:

'How long have you known Amber, and why did you not tell us before.'

Angeal immediately typed back:

'3:52:18. Not long enough to tell'

'Oh joy. Next week, I will be asking how is the wife and kids'

'Not funny, Seph. How are you and Gen?'

'I got laid and so did he

'Didn't wanna know that.'

' You asked. GTG. TTYL'

'CYA'

Watching the light fade from the sky, Angeal sat by the window thinking about her. _'Please,'_ he prayed to Minerva, _'don't let me make a fool of myself again.' _

The alarm on his digital watch went off precisely at nine. He pulled out his cell and started to dial the number Amber had given him. Then he hung up. What if it was someone elses number, and she just gave him something to shut him up, or what if she was too tired to talk after work and cheering? What if she wasn't home yet, and he annoyed her? What if she had given him someone eles number...he said that one already.

The purple of the Second Class uniform that he had hanging on his closet door caught his attention, reminding him that he had gone after Second Class with everything he had, and though at times it was scary, he pulled through. He took a deep, relaxing breath. How was he to achieve anything if he didn't go after it with confidence and determination? He dialed Amber's number.

And he was glad he did.

It was two o'clock in the morning when they hung up, and though physically exhausted (he went on a mission before he was promoted) the dark-haired teen had never felt so mentally awake. It didn't matter that he had to be up in three hours, the sacrifice of sleep was well worth getting to know Amber.

Before disconnecting, they had agreed to go out Saturday whenever Angeal came back from his mission and when Amber was already off work.

Angeal couldn't wait til Saturday.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

"Alright, gentlemen, this is the last leg of training before the games." Genesis yelled out to his troupe, trying not to think about how uncomfortable he was having Sephiroth's sperm dripping out of him. "so, we are going to train harder and push ourselves like never before. Because remember, boys, not only am I going for my rank, but this will determine who among you will become SOLDIER and who will stay regular army.

The games will consist of three events. We will have an obstacle course, a game capture the flag paintball, and our last challenge will be a monster hunt. It will be the obstacle course and monster hunt we will be training the hardest for.

Now I'm going to split you up into teams, because I have seen that coordinated units do better in most events, than if we tackled them as one big group. Doughnut, you are leading up Alpha teem, Mitchell, you've got Bravo unit.

Now, before I let the team leaders pick out there teams, I want everyone to congratulate Doughnut." Genesis held up his clipboard. "Cadet Green has lost fifteen pounds in last two weeks. I call that determination. Way to work the fat off your ass Doughnut."

Genesis gave the troupe a minute to give their approval and slaps on the back to Bobby, before settling them all down.

"Alright guys, pick your teams."

After the units for the games were picked, Genesis started his men off with their daily run, then jumped right into training. He took them out to the obstacle course. He ran it first, then let the troupe tackle it and then pulled Doughnut and Mitchell, and showed them what to look for when deciding who would be the best choices to do the course because each squad was only allow to have four participants; two to run the obstacles and two to do the rest.

From there, it was on to teaching about the monster hunt. The first thing the red SOLDIER did was tell them about the forest outside Junon, or what he remembered learning about it in class. The games he'd been involved with to make it into SOLIDER had been held in Midgar. Due to the fact that none of them were allowed off the base – as the Shin-Ra commanders here in Junon thought it best for cadets and even SOLDIERS to learn by the hands on method their first time out – Genesis did his best to explain tracking and hunting in the forest. Growing up in Banora was a priceless experience.

He then recited, from memory, a complete list of the monsters that Shin-Ra had categorized living in Junon Forest. He made sure to include their strengths and weaknesses in that list. Showing them what techniques with both sword and gun worked best against imaginary monsters, had been rather taxing, but in the end, the warrior had felt his squad got a lot accomplished that day.

By the time training was over, all the redhead wanted to do was go back to his room, take a nice, long shower and then sleep.

The figure of T.J. standing in front of the door to his room, was easy to make out from 1,000 feet away. Genesis mentally sighed, and his exhaustion grew all the heavier. He did _not_ want to put up with the blond right now.

"MOVE!" the auburn teen barked as soon as he was in T.J.'s face.

"Awww, don't be like that," the other boy whisper firmly gripped Genesis' hips and walked him backwards until the hit the opposing wall. He had seen SOLDIER Sephiroth go into Genesis' room last night and not come out. When he woke up this morning, rage was coursing through him. He decided in a instant that he was going to show the redhead how he really felt.

T.J. dipped his head forward and grazed Genesis' lips with his own. The boy tasted salt with an underlying flavor of apple. He pressed his mouth harder, and to his surprises, Genesis' lips parted. With his heart beating at a million miles a minute, he grew more daring and slipped his tongue inside.

A jolt of electricity shot through his body when his tongue rubbed against the redhead's. He was really kissing another boy...and not just any boy, he was kissing Genesis Rhapsodos. He became light-headed and giddy on sensation.

Breathless, T.J. finally pulled away. "Genesis," he began, his voice shaky, "I think I'm in love with you."

Genesis was stunned. He had been fully prepared to fight with the other SOLDIER, so when T.J. backed him into a wall and started kissing him, he went into shock. His brain froze and for those several seconds all he knew was touch. His enemy was soft and warm and tingles were shooting into his stomach. His face grew flushed and hot.

It wasn't until T.J. pulled his lips away that Genesis' brain started working again.

'_Oh Dear Gaia, I just kissed a boy who isn't Seph,"_ he started to panic, _'Sephiroth's going to kill you, T.J. I'm owned property. Oh, Gaia, how could I do that to Seph. I love him.'_ Genesis broke out of T.J. hold. _'I just kissed T.J. Collins. Gross!'_

"Go away," the redhead shouted and pushed the blond, not caring about his declaration of love.

Genesis ran into his room, and slammed and locked his door.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Sephiroth had spent the early part of the day inspecting the Junon facility. He easily discerned its faults, and committed them to memory. The later half of the day was invested in wondering the civilian quarters and hang outs. He made sure to pay special attention to the seedier areas and places were anti-Shin-Ra rumors might be spread and propagated. He had even gone so far as to changing into civilian clothing and taking the elevator down to the sea level.

The silver SOLDIER found exactly what he was looking for in several different places scattered through the city. Try as they might, Shin-Ra was not loved by all.

Regardless of the fact that he may be reconnecting with Genesis and his younger self was falling in love, he still had a purpose in coming here, he still meant to destroy humanity by initiating brutal, bloody wars. And his was taking this opportunity to get a feel for the layout of the land, if you will. To formulate a plot of how and where he wanted to start.

Later in the evening, feeling his day had been very productive, he headed to his lover's quarters. Maybe they would go somewhere for dinner, and spend the rest of the evening talking, him explaining to Genesis the insight he'd had earlier.

Sephiroth rounded the corner that led to Genesis' room, and suddenly he wished he were blind. Genesis, _his _Genesis, was kissing someone else right there in the corridor. Bile rose up in his throat, but the only action allowed was a narrowing of his eyes.

A rage so poignant that it burned blue, consumed him; his body became paralyzed. He wanted to strike at them, he wanted to tear apart the blond slowly and bathe in his blood. Genesis...he didn't even dare think about what he wanted to do to Genesis.

Then the pair separated and Sephiroth found himself able to move again. A deadly calm stole over him. He pivoted on a heal and walked away.

He had a war to start.


	9. Chapter 9: Truth and Consequences pt 1

_Disclaimer: Characters and setting are property of Square Enix_

_Rating: NC-17_

_Paring: Sephiroth/Genesis_

_Warnings: Language, Violence_

_**Summery: After being defeated twice, Sephiroth finally understands what he really wants, however the only way to get it is to go back to a time before he made his mistakes. Time travel fic. Rated for yaoi, and violence in later chaps. Sephiroth/Genesis **_

_AN- This is only half a chapter, but it's been sitting on my computer for months, which is how long it's been since I've updated. (I blame school and RL)_

_AN2- If anyone is still following this story, thank you. Special thanks to Nephilim Rising who betaed this chapter, and who kept reminding me to write, even though I had tons and tons of homework. _

**&%$ CBV $%& **

Booming thunder rippled through the heavens, ricocheting off the gray, offensive storm clouds that littered the evening sky over the steel city of Junon, making the highest points of the military complex indistinguishable from stratosphere. The sound, God's heartbeat, rocked the city to its foundation, causing the towering metropolis to sway slightly, though her citizens probably didn't notice the shift. The support structures were built to withstand gale winds, and hurricane conditions, so a brief but powerful thunderstorm was but a grain of sand in a hot desert, yet Sephiroth found he enjoyed the atmosphere.

The sudden raise in humidity didn't phase the silver haired SOLDIER, and from where he stood – on the landing atop the city – he had a clear view of the ocean sprawled below. Pink-white lightening fork into three prongs and kissed the blue-gray, churning sea; the sky once again bellowed out in anger, and the city tipped to and fro.

Up here, where ozone smelled the strongest, where obese raindrops flattened his hair when the water came, Sephiroth could feel the direct connection he had with Gaia, could feel her as she threw a temper-tantrum against the ugly human settlement that marred her perfect features. Up here, in the rain and solitude, with bright light flashing before his eyes, he felt raw power. A power which tempted him to challenge God's might, daring to incur His wrath.

However, it was not the power he came here seeking, but isolation. His thoughts were weighty, clouding his mind, driving him to act on impulse instead of carefully formulating his next move. Sephiroth needed to clear his thoughts, least they lead him to enact a plot he hadn't fully hatched yet.

But gaining clarity was difficult when every bolt of lightning brought about another unwanted detail.

Genesis' lips, pink, soft, perfect, created for his enjoyment alone, moving passionately against the mouth of another. Genesis' eyes, glowing sapphires, fully lidded so the dusty lashes fanned against his pale cheeks in surrender. Genesis' hips, slender, shapely, delicate, meant solely for his hands to wander over, gripped and held by the other SOLIDER, pressing the redhead's body against him. Genesis' blush, strawberry against cream, the one he was supposed to bring to his lover's face, given freely to another man.

Every single second of the scene was on repeat, and regardless of the effort expended, he could not shut off the images. Genesis was his, and no one had the right to touch him, yet this other SOLDIER dared, had the audacity to try and lay claim to what was his. He decided then and there that he was going to eviscerate the blond who had kissed his lover.

'Oh, yes, now there is a plan that is conductive to our long term goals,' his younger self interrupted his thoughts in sarcasm.

'I do not believe I was seeking your opinion,' he retorted.

'Regardless, your plan of eviscerating a SOLDIER, here in Junon, because he kissed another SOLDIER, is foolish at best.'

'Genesis is, always was, and always will be MINE.'

'And I will not disagree with that. I, long ago, came to accept the fact that we are obsessed with Genesis Rhapsodos. Our obsessive nature is one of our few flaws, however, killing this other boy will paint us as a failure in President Shin-Ra's eyes. He will deem us rampant, feral, uncontrollable, and he will order Hojo to destroy us. You may have the power to bring the whole world to its knees when we are older, but so far, you can not even maintain control over this body we are in much less channel your power through it. So, it is in my humble opinion, that this course of action you are planning, is disastrous.'

Sephiroth took a deep breath and turned his face to the sky. Cool rain, washing away the humidity, worked its way over him, serving to relax him. He was right of course, it was a terrible idea to outright kill the blond boy, at least in the present. Later though, when the teen had raised in rank and could accompany him on a mission...

'Why do I allow my emotions to come to the forefront and fog my judgment when it comes to Genesis?'

'Because we are in love, and we are obsessed.'

The vibration in his left coat pocket jarred his from his musings. Pulling out his tiny, sleek black cell, his glare became hard as he read the incoming text:

'Seph, something just happened and I need to talk to you. When are you coming?'

Of course it was from Genesis, the one person he did not wish to have any communications with at the moment. His replay was a simple, single word:

'Busy'

A few seconds later, a new message was received:

'Doing?'

Obsession or no, the very thought of the redhead at the present caused a new wave of anger to rise and this time, visions of a hawked nose blond boy hijacked the workings of his inner mind. Lighting – blue-white without the tinge of pink – split the sea, painting Sephiroth's features in a ghastly, electric light, making him appear to be a night terror that stepped into the waking world, causing him to stand out viciously against the seamless ocean of his gray surroundings. Vividly, the incident that took place just a few floors below, viewed from a different angle, resurfaced.

Strong hands and muscular arms tensed and restrained hips that belong to another. A broad chest heaved and connected with a smaller one, inferring dominance by sheer size. An angular jaw moved and worked lip to cover soft, plump flesh – flesh that only his lips should be covering.

'I am on the landing pad. Meet me.'

Glittering emeralds of pure malice stay locked on the horizon. He put his phone away.

Lightning struck and thunder rolled.

**&%$ CBV $%&**

Cool, crisp, tingling with a slight burn, the peppermint mouthwash was effectively cleansing Genesis of the lingering sensation that T.J.'s kiss had left him with. Spiting the first mouthful down his bathroom sink, the redhead took another swig and started swishing it around while he pulled out his phone and nervously typed in a message to his boyfriend. Still not coming to a decision about he was going to explain what just happened to his silver haired lover, he hastily punched in a text saying something happened and they needed to talk.

Tipping his head back, Genesis gargled the liquid, allowing the antiseptic to burn against the back of his throat, as he awaited Sephiroth's reply.

'Oh dear Gaia, I kissed T.J. Collins. What is wrong with me? I hate that guy.' The thought left him feeling disgusted and ill, and worse, the word 'traitor,' buzzed through his head like a carpenter bee ready to sting and burrow. 'How could I have allowed myself to kiss him back? T.J. Collins of all people? For planet's sake, I am dating SEPHIROTH! He's gonna kill me when I tell him. He is going to draw that big, fricken sword – where did he get that think anyway? – and stab me right through the stomach." He spit out the second round of mouth cleaner. 'Goddess, Genesis Rhapsodos, you're such a dope sometimes.'

The Shin-Ra issued phone lit up, the word 'busy,' displayed in neat, electronic letters.

Busy? Genesis checked the time. What could the Second Class be doing so late in the evening? Genesis decided to ask.

With no response forthcoming, figuring his lover really was too busy to reply – a good and a bad thing – the redhead jumped in the shower. The good part was that he had time to think about how he wanted to explain the situation to Sephiroth, the bad part; his nerves were eating him alive.

Washing away the sweat and grim of the day, not to mention the residual feeling of T.J.'s hands on his hips, Genesis was glad he made his shower brief. When he stepped out and began drying off, he noticed the glow of his cell. Peering over at the device lying on the edge of the sink, he was mildly surprised to find that had indeed answered, and asked that they meet up on the landing pad.

Quickly dressing in civilian clothes, keeping his anxiety in check, and praying like hell that Sephiroth was still up there, Genesis took the nearest elevator out of the military facility and caught another one that lead the to very top of the city. Great gusts of wind and pounding, blinding rain greeted him as he stepped off the elevator.

With fast strides he crossed the top level to the lift that would take him up to the landing pad, but his journey ended there, seeing as his silver haired lover was coming down. Squinting through the downpour, the redhead made a quick apology when Sephiroth reached the bottom, "Sorry if I'm late, I was in the shower when your last message came in."

"Pft," Sephiroth snorted and turned to glare daggers of green ice, pinning Genesis to the spot. "Were you alone?" He spat, eyes narrowing with something very close to hate.

Genesis' heart plummeted. 'He knows. 'Oh Minerva, how am I going to explain this now when he's already made the worst of assumptions?' He shivered; whether it was from the rain or actual fear, he wasn't sure. "Seph, I can explain..."

"I am sure you can," the Second Class stepped off the lift, wrapped an arm around Genesis' waist and began walking him backwards. "Tell me, Genesis, my love," his tone was cruel and sarcastic, "how did it feel to have another man's lips on your? Did you enjoy having your tongue in his mouth?"

"Sephiroth, it wasn't like that," Genesis shook his head, his wet locked becoming plastered to his forehead. He kept moving back because the silver warrior was forcing him. "T.J. just came up and kissed me. I wasn't expecting it."

"And you kissed him in return," Sephiroth growled. Superior self control was the only thing that saved his lover from a thrashing. He wanted to hurt the teen, beat him black and blue, make him understand that he was his and only his. Maybe Genesis didn't comprehend it yet, maybe he was still too young to fully grasp the meaning, but he was owned, and it was the god of war who owned him. Being loved and beloved by such a being carried a very heavy price.

Genesis was trembling by the time they stopped at the edge. "Sephiroth," his breath was coming in shallow pants, "when it happened, I was caught off guard," he met his lover's glare and kept his face steady, though his heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst through his chest, "I couldn't think, so I...I just reacted. I'm so sorry. It didn't mean anything. In fact, I pushed him away once I realized what I was doing. I sent you the text message right after it happened, because I wanted to tell you so I could explain it."

Not daring to look behind him; he already knew what was there: a jagged mountain face off to his left, and nothing but a straight plunge into an icy-cold depths behind. If he did look, the last ounce of courage he had would flee.

"...I see." Sephiroth's smirk deepened. He knew exactly which Genesis he was speaking with; this was pretty little liar Genesis, the Genesis that tried to cover his transgressions with honeyed words and a look of innocence. This was the Genesis that had a way of defeating Sephiroth with his silver tongue and charcoal brushed eyelashes. This Genesis could make all of Sephiroth's feelings invalid. Not this time around. Sephiroth, having danced to this turn one too many times in the past, was immune to this Genesis.

A bolt of lighting struck, illuminating the area in a hellish glow, and when the thunder detonated in the sky above, Sephiroth gave his lover – whom he was chest to chest with – a shove, knocking Genesis off balance.

Genesis hadn't meant to scream, but he did. He felt his body falling backwards, and reaching out with both hands, he grabbed the thing closest to him; Sephiroth's hair. He heart lurched into his throat, and his stomach plummeted. He'd heard that a fall from this height would kill someone from a heart attack before they ever reached the ground (in this case, the ocean, with would be like hitting hard ground anyway) but he wasn't sure if that held true of a SOLDIER. Waiting for the rush of wind to assault his frame, he squeezed his eyes shut.

The fall never came.

A split second after his steady footing was stolen from him, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, holding him over the crashing tides below. "Don't drop me," he pleaded, fingers tightening in Sephiroth's hair. There had been many times when he had been frightened before and usually he could call upon his vast array of courage within, but this time was different, this time it was his lover – the one person he had placed insurmountable faith in – that held the power of life or death over him.

"Seph, I'm sorry," he panted, trying to keep his breathing even. The wind whipped and slashed at his face as there was nothing up here to hold the strong currents at bay, and the sensation of being strangled was impressed deeply upon him. He chanced a glimpse downward, and gasped again, "Dear Minerva, Sephiroth, please don't let me go."

The silver-haired SOLDIER bent forward until his forehead was resting on Genesis' and his cruel smirk was laid on the redhead's quivering lips, "I do not care how it happened or why, but you are never to forget Genesis Rhapsodos, you belong to me. Do not ever forget that your place is by my side, and you are to always conduct yourself in such a manner."

The bright flashes of white interrupting the seamless gray setting were reflected in icy-emerald eyes and suddenly Genesis recognized Sephiroth as the man from his dream that morning. The Sephiroth who was holding him over his demise was the Sephiroth who was angry at him for committing acts that had not yet come to pass. This Sephiroth wanted to hurt him for crimes far worse than kissing another boy. The person who had his lips against his was a person who knew of atrocities in which he had no way of fathoming. Having no other choice, and not wishing to upset Sephiroth any further at this time, Genesis inclined his head, "Nothing like that shall happen again, I promise."

"See that it doesn't," Sephiroth snarled, then pressed a real kiss on Genesis' lips.

Being pulled away from the ledge, the SOLDIER Third Class was able to right himself, but Sephiroth still had him encased in an embrace, tracing his fingertips up and down Genesis' spine, seeking to comfort him after his terrible ordeal. "Hush, my love," he cooed in response to the redhead's unsteady breathing, "I did not enjoy having to teach you such a lesson. Please, I beg, do not force my hand in such a way again."

Adrenaline still pumped through Genesis' form, even as his heartbeat was slowing down. Sephiroth was cradling him, trying to ease the stress of the situation, and it might have worked if Genesis were...insane, and wanted to be with a controlling d-bag for a boyfriend. However, he wasn't insane and he didn't want a controlling d-bag for a boyfriend.

He broke out of Sephiroth's arms and pushed the taller teen away from him. "What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?" He was screaming at Sephiroth now. "I came here to tell you what happened and you, you psycho, threatened to throw me off JUNON! Oh, it wasn't just some really tall skyscraper, no, you just threatened to push me off a CITY. Are you completely bat shit?"

"I was not going to drop you. I would never harm you, much less kill you," Sephiroth said evenly, as if his intentions not injure his lover justified his actions. As normal as Genesis' behavior was after such an ordeal, to the SOLDIER Second, his lover was being melodramatic and overreacting.

"So, just because you wasn't really going to drop me, that makes it okay? I don't think so." He pushed Sephiroth again, his rage blinding him to his surrounding, causing him to forget how close to the edge they had gotten once again, "I never, ever, ever want to see you again!"

Palms flat on Sephiroth's chest, muscles tensing, Genesis heaved one more time. Metal, slippery from rain, held no traction for the usually dexterous and nimble silver-haired teen. With his balance lost, he flailed his arms, and out of natural reaction he sought to right himself by latching on to that which was in front of him: Genesis.

Time elongated, animation became suspended; the waters below ceased to churn, the few birds overhead that dared brave the weather, ceased to fly, a streak of pronged lighting hung motionless in the clouds, refusing to strike, sapphire and emerald clashed in bewilderment.

Genesis' scream pushed time back into place, "SEPHIROTH!"

The air around them, which had only be yelling moments ago, became a shriek, now ripping and tearing at tender flesh. The redhead's stomach rose into his chest and he lost the ability to scream. His vision became blurred as the violent wind assaulted his optical organs, causing him to see only flickers of silver against a rapidly descending expanse of gray. And his heart, it began pounding so quickly, shooting adrenaline into every nerve he had, that he understood why it was said that most people who fall from great heights died of a heart-attack before ever hitting bottom.

They, he and Sephiroth, were going to hit the ocean and the impact would shatter every bone in both their bodies, killing them instantly. Genesis never once imagined he would die like this – he didn't want to die like this, but he took some solace in the fact he and his one true love were going to die together, holding tightly to each other.

As tragic as it was, even at the hour of his death, Genesis was a poet at core and the part of his mind that wasn't terrified found the situation...romantic.

In the last few seconds of his life, the redhead resolved he was not going to die mad at his lover. Finding within himself enough breath and will to speak, he cried his final words, "I love you."

Sephiroth was also experiencing the same gut-wrenching feeling as Genesis, as they plummeted fast and fast towards the crashing, murky sea below; however, his thoughts were not the same as his lover's. Even when he heard Genesis proclaim he loved him, he merely acknowledged his lover's words by tightening his grip. He did not come back to occupy a younger version of himself, only to die by being pushed off the top of Junon by the only person he truly loved.

In a final act of desperation, he let his rational thoughts go and when he did, his mind went to different place, a place where neither old nor young Sephiroth had control. He went to the place where he thought as Mother thought, and did as Mother did. Without urging his cells began to react, instinctively knowing that the root of their existence was about to be terminated.

It could not, would not, be allowed to happen.

The old, familiar, sharp pain in the right side of his back brought him back to reality. With inhuman strength he pulled Genesis against his body and cradle the teen's head to his chest. There was a sundering of skin and cloth, a red-black spray came from beneath him and as the pair continued their fall, they passed the crimson droplets and to Sephiroth's sight, it looked like they were falling upwards.

He willed the onyx, feathered appendage to unfurl and stretched it maximum length. He flapped it once and the lover's descent slowed. He worked it again and he was in complete control of their direction.

Carrying Genesis, who now had his face upturned in utter shock, he flew them to the shore and landed.

"H-how?" The question muttered by the smaller teen was strictly rhetorical.

Sephiroth chose to answer regardless, "Because I truly am the perfect monster."


End file.
